Beyond The Portal
by Jess Pallas
Summary: A repository for short stories set in the Portalverse created for my fic "A Little More Time". Post DH epilogue.
1. Family Ties Part One

**A/N**: Written for the March 2008 **rt_challenge** on LJ to the prompts: _whole_ (Part One) and "There will come a time when believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning." – Louis L'Amour (Part Two). This two-part story is set within the Portalverse established in my previous story A Little More Time, a couple of years after the events in the Department of Mysteries. For anyone who hasn't read ALMT, the salient but SPOILERY facts you'll probably need to know for this story to make sense are that a year after the DH epilogue, Teddy Lupin, whilst employed as an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries, used a time Portal to rescue his parents an instant before their deaths and replaced their bodies in the past with fakes so that history (and canon ;p) would play out as it should. After much faff, the upshot was that Remus and Tonks, both technically still the same age they were when they "died", were able to pick up their lives twenty in the future. And that meant that Remus went back to teach at Hogwarts because that's where he belongs and Tonks returned to the Auror Department. Teddy, who was very much fired from the Ministry, was also employed as a teacher, in his case for History of Magic. That all sorted, off we go…

**Family Ties by Jess Pallas**

**Part One**

There was something oddly relaxing about the Easter holidays at Hogwarts.

Several of the other teachers had thought Remus mad when he'd ventured that opinion in the staff room a few days before. After all, Easter was the holiday when most students failed to go home, choosing to remain and, reputedly, study for their imminent exams and, aside from the absence of lessons, it was much like term-time, full of bustle and laughter and barely concealed flouting of the rules. But Remus had long been of the opinion that Hogwarts without students might as well not be Hogwarts at all – the castle was too eerie, too silent, too _lifeless_ to feel comfortable in the summer and even Christmas, he recalled from his year as a live-in teacher, was just that touch too quiet. But Easter was a break without boredom, a paired down version of the job he loved that meant he could help the students and prepare for future classes while still having time to see plenty of his family in between. It formed a happy medium between the two parts of life he loved the most.

Neville Longbottom had nodded his agreement at that and even Headmaster Flitwick had conceded that he could see his point. But the other teachers had banded together and roundly concluded that he was barking.

The look on Alice Spindleshaft's face when she realised that yes, she _had_ just used that term out loud to address a werewolf, had been worth the concession of the argument. It had taken him ten minutes of fending off stammered apologies to convince the Muggle Studies professor that he hadn't been the slightest bit offended. Five of those had been needed so he could stop laughing.

And it had been so easy to laugh. Years ago, before Dora, and before a trip through a temporal Portal had thrust him away from his own death and into a whole new life, he would never have been able to laugh so long, the laughter consumed by worries that he was making people uncomfortable, that the apology was motivated by fear, that they were wondering about his motives in wanting to stay with the children, that they and the children were watching him nervously behind his back. Or he'd have swallowed his laughter for fear they thought he was mocking them or even that he might be giving himself away. Concern about his condition, about people finding out what he was or people knowing and watching him with sharp, suspicious eyes had dogged every step of his life back then, for whether he'd wanted it to or not, he'd somehow always seemed to _let_ it. And he'd said it didn't bother him and he'd smiled and joined in with the jokes but it had nagged at him right up until the day that a slightly pregnant Nymphadora Tonks had looked him in the eye after he'd returned, shamefaced, from Grimmauld Place and told him he was getting downright neurotic about his condition and that he needed to stop worrying about other people's opinions and start finding some of his own, for his child's sake if nothing else. Being a werewolf would only ruin his life if he decided to let it. And he'd known then that she had been right.

It had been easier to laugh after that. And easier still when he'd found himself twenty years away from the memory of Greyback and the war, with his wonderful wife and a brilliant and emphatically not lycanthropic grown-up son, given back the job he loved and surrounded by people who insisted on treating him like either a friend or some kind of war hero. With the memory of his strange reappearance fading with the passing of fresh years, he'd started to feel almost _ordinary_. Days, almost weeks at certain phases of the moon, would go by when he wouldn't even _think_ about his condition. He knew that he could have no greater gift and every evening spent around a dinner table, chatting with Teddy about the latest shenanigans at Hogwarts or listening to Dora's updates on her latest investigations, left him feeling more like a human being than he'd ever thought was possible.

He felt _whole_. And the Easter holidays and all it represented, the merging of work and family and all the ordinary little things that made his life so extraordinarily wonderful, was relaxing. He didn't care if that made him figuratively barking or not.

With his Easter office hours tailored to match Dora's schedule, he'd had a wonderful few days so far. Half had been spent tutoring a few of his uncertain students and one or two of his more conscientious – Rose Weasley really could be _alarmingly_ like her mother – and fending off the latest gambits in James Potter's unsuccessful but ongoing prank campaign to get one over on the last of the Marauders. The other half he'd spent with Dora, picnicking in the sunshine, shopping in Diagon Alley or just curled up together at home, enjoying the warmth and feel of each other and the comfort and passion of their love. It would have been nice if Teddy could have joined them, but his son had opted to whisk his girlfriend Victoire away to the magical quarter of Bruges for a few days to celebrate the rapid approach of his twenty-fourth birthday. It wasn't often that Teddy's Hogwarts commitments and Victoire's apprenticeship at St Mungo's fell so nicely into line and the young couple had been unashamedly eager for some private time.

Remus couldn't blame them. Much as he loved his son, it was nice sometimes to have a little more time alone with his wife. And although he was looking forward to Teddy's return that evening, he could also feel a strong tug of anticipation regarding his pending afternoon alone with Dora. Her annual Auror Department physical had thwarted their plans of a whole day together but she'd promised him that on the stroke of midday, she would be waiting in the Three Broomsticks and most emphatically all his. The possibilities that had danced in her dark eyes as she'd winked over her shoulder and headed out of the door had occupied his thoughts for most of the rest of the morning.

But his last batch of unmarked essays were calling and, with noon still over an hour away, Remus had felt compelled to answer. It was mostly uneventful; he'd noted that Columbine McMillan would most likely need an extra tutoring session on Dark Artefacts before her OWLs and James Potter's essay had leapt up, folded itself into a paintbrush and made an emphatic but ultimately futile attempt to paint paisley patterns on his robes. Remus had Charmed it down without breaking a sweat and, with a small smile, wrote the words _must try harder_ in red ink at the bottom. He'd always tried to encourage innovation and James was nothing if not imaginative. Remus rather looked forward to the day when he would actually be caught out. He strongly suspected Harry would be quite proud.

The pile went down quickly. His OWL students were a fairly competent bunch and their handwriting was only moderately challenging to interpret. The clock on the mantle of his fireplace marked the passing of minutes as the final hour before midday and whatever delights his wife had in store for him slipped away, quarter past, what would she be wearing – Sebastian Hardcastle, _good understanding of curse breaking theory_ – half past, where would they go - Agrippina Gamp, _a little too focussed on the placing of curses, rather than their detection or removal_ – quarter to, what would they _do_ - Isis Forest, _excellent work, well thought out_ – and so it was that he was just rounding off his final comments on June Boot's missive – _well written but lacking a little in detail_ – and wondering what shade his wife's hair was likely to be when he rather abruptly got an answer.

The door to his office burst open. There stood Dora, her eyes wide, her face pale and her hair limp and alarmingly brown. She stared at him in mute horror for a moment, before launching herself abruptly into the room. He barely had time to get up and out from behind his desk before she flung herself into his arms.

"Oh, Remus!" she exclaimed, burying her head into his shoulder as her brown locks ticked his cheek and nose. "Oh Remus, I've really messed up!"

Alarm was coursing through Remus in chilly waves as he tightened his grasp upon his wife. Was it about this afternoon? Did she have to work after all? But surely she wouldn't be so upset about a scheduling mix up…

Well, all he could do was ask. "Messed up what?" he said gently, if a little urgently against the top of her head. "What on earth's the matter?" The cold turned abruptly glacial. "Is this about your physical? Did they find something wrong? Dora!"

"It's not _wrong_, exactly." Her tone of voice, muffled as it was by her face being pressed against his neck, nonetheless offered no comfort. "But it's _stupid_ and my fault and it'll affect _everything_ and I'll have to stop work again and I know we talked about it and said that we probably would someday but we'd have to talk to Teddy, but we _haven't _and no matter what he says I _know_ he'll be upset and…" She huffed sharply against his skin before launching herself back into babble. "Oh, this is all my fault! I thought that potion tasted a bit funny when I drank it, do you remember, I said! But you were sat there looking so bloody sexy and it was the last bottle I had and I convinced myself it would all be fine…"

"Dora!" Remus' sharp exclamation was enough to lift his wife's head, her dark eyes meeting his and spilling out such a vivid confusion of emotions that it almost made his head spin. "For goodness sake, please tell me what's wrong!"

He saw it. He saw the answer in her eyes an instant before her lips parted and softly said again the words that had once rocked his world to its core.

"I'm pregnant."


	2. Family Ties Part Two

**Family Ties Part Two **

_He saw it. He saw the answer in her eyes an instant before her lips parted and softly said again the words that had once rocked his world to its core._

"_I'm pregnant."_

There was a definite judder. His world gave a distinct lurch but this time the shocked surprise gave way not to the swamp of fear and self blame that had so cruelly swallowed up the half-second's worth of soaring joy he'd felt before but to a sudden dawn of stunned happiness. It was true they had discussed having another child, but Dora was so happy in her career and knowing that they now had all the time in the world had taken away any kind of urgency they might have felt. He'd been more than content to wait until she decided she was ready.

But the wait was over, whether they'd intended it to be or not.

Pregnant.

A baby.

A baby he'd get to see grow up, rather than meeting again fully grown after a few seconds of bright red light had swallowed up twenty whole years…

He started to smile but one look at the outright miserable look on his wife's face halted its progress sharply.

"And that's… _bad_?" Remus sensed this was a venture into troubled waters but it had to be done – it was with no small amount of irony that he realised that the last time this scene had played out, their roles had been almost exactly reversed. "I know it's unexpected but I'm certain Harry will be more than happy to make every accommodation with your work if…"

"This isn't about work!" Five years of marriage had left Remus more than used to being regarded as though he was an idiot, but on this occasional he couldn't help but feel that she was being a little unfair, especially since her logic had apparently wandered well out of his range of husbandly detection and was probably legging it over a fence a hundred miles away by now. "This is about Teddy!"

_Yep, over the fence and heading for the horizon_… "Teddy?"

"Yes, Teddy!" A small fist thumped against his chest. "How do you think _he's_ going to feel about this?"

It was possible that the sudden surge of happiness running rampant through his brain had interfered with his usually more accurate ability to interpret Dora's direction of thought. The word _hormones_ did flit across his mind, but he also knew with a grim certainty that if it crossed his lips, he wouldn't be making any more babies for many years to come. Bravely, he waded into the confusion.

"I would imagine… _happy_?" he ventured.

"Oh, he'll _say_ he's happy." Abruptly Dora pulled herself out of his grasp, striding halfway across the room before wheeling on one heel to face him. Luckily, she regained her balance after only a couple of seconds of flailing. "I know him. He's like _you._" A finger stabbed in his direction almost accusingly. "He won't want to upset us so he won't admit it! He won't admit how he feels! Remus, barring accidents, misfortunes or fate being even more a bastard than it's already managed, we are going to have this baby and raise it all the way to adulthood!"

"Well, that's the normal arrangement…"

"But not with Teddy, was it? We weren't there for _him_!"

_Aha_… The logic had slipped in around the back door and finally come knocking. The old guilt, that he hadn't been there for Teddy, that leaving him to go and fight had cost them twenty years together, rose briefly to stab at his heart and knew at once that Dora's assassin was far more potent. She'd come to terms with those lost years in the end but he knew that no matter what anyone said to her, she'd never quite forgiven herself…

"I mean how's he going to feel?" Dora ran one anxious hand through her limp hair as she paced in a nervous little circle. "Seeing us with a baby, raising a child, sharing all those little moments we didn't share with him! We couldn't have that with him so we've brought in a _reserve_? He'll feel like we can't love him as much because we didn't teach him to walk or talk or wave him off to school! He'll feel like he's being abandoned. He'll feel like he's being _replaced_!"

There was really only one thing that Remus could reasonably do. He strode over and engulfed his wife in another hug.

"I never thought I'd be the one saying this to you," he said affectionately. "Especially since it's usually your job to poke me about it. I think you're over thinking this."

Dora buried herself back into his chest once more. "Remus, I couldn't stand to hurt him," she whispered, her voice betraying the resurgence of deeply buried anxieties. "I let him down so much when I left him to fight. He lost the chance to be _our little boy_. I can't be happy at his expense, I just can't…"

"You won't be." Remus tightened his hold. "I know him too. He knows how much we missed having the chance to raise him. He knows how much we love him now. And he knows that _nothing _will ever change that."

"But we'll be flaunting what he didn't have with us! He'll feel left out!"

"Then we won't let him. We'll prove that we love him as often as we need to. And Dora, I think you're forgetting. There's more than just the three of us to think of now. The new baby – what about his or her feelings about being raised in the shadow of a brother that mummy feels she let down? We can't slight one to please the other – in _either_ direction. Teddy would never resent us happiness – he sacrificed a career he loved so that we could have this life! And he would hate it more than anything else if he thought he was in some way responsible for ruining our joy." Gently, he tilted her head so that her dark eyes could not escape his and pressed his lips softly against hers. "We'll be a family, Dora, a bigger family, with all the hang-ups and issues that come with it. But we'll manage. And I know that our Teddy will _love_ being a big brother."

A hint of a smile curved across Dora's lips. "I suppose he will. I can just see him holding our baby and playing games and singing songs…"

Remus smiled in spite of himself. "You know, the way he and Victoire are going, it probably won't be long until we're gra…"

A finger slapped down across his lips, cutting off the rest of his sentence. Dora glared up at him sharply.

"_Don't _say it! We do not use the g-word! I am _too young_ for the g-word!"

He was risking life, limb and a night on the sofa, but Remus really couldn't help himself. "Well, you could always go with Nan instead…"

The beating of fists against his shoulder stopped after about twenty seconds, with no real bruises but to his pride, to Remus knew she hadn't really meant it. It was a strange thought though. In years lived, he was just venturing into the murky waters of his early forties, a little late, if not excessively old for second-hand fatherhood and early, but not ridiculously, for grandchildren. But technically, in years passed since his birth, he was knocking around sixty and grandparenthood was nothing to be ashamed of. But Dora was physically not even thirty yet. To have a smiling little face call her grandma seemed outright silly.

Mummy, however…

A baby. They were having a _baby_…

"We're having a baby." The words slipped out almost unbidden and oh yes, Dora was actually smiling, smiling with him and the joy reached up to her eyes…

"I know," she whispered slipping her arms back around him. "And I am happy. I really am."

"Me too." He rested his head against her hair, noting the small strands of pink and purple that were creeping their way up from her crown as he closed his eyes. "And Teddy will be too, I promise. We can tell him tonight. I'm sure that he will…"

"Dad!"

Remus jumped about a foot and he was certain that it was only his grip on Dora that prevented her from taking a violently startled tumble. Wheeling sharply, he stared at the green flames that had burst into life unheeded in his fireplace and found the disembodied head of his son staring back at him with wide eyes and pale cheeks. If it were not for the vivid turquoise of his hair, he would have been almost the image of his mother when she had first rushed through the door what seemed like an eternity ago.

Remus found his mind racing. What had they just said? How much had Teddy heard? They'd wanted him to know, but not like this…

"And Mum too!" A nervous smile flashed briefly across Teddy's features. "You're both here! That's great! That's… two birds with one stone… that's…"

_Oh, not again_. Rather babbled out, Remus decided to cut to the chase. "Teddy! I didn't think you were back until tonight. Is something wrong?"

Teddy shook his disembodied head, eyes flicking from one parent to the other almost anxiously. _But_ _he couldn't know, we've barely found out ourselves, and I was so sure he wouldn't mind_…

"I'm not back. I'm still in Bruges, but I borrowed a Floo. I needed to talk to you – well, one of you, and I didn't know where Mum would be so I… Well you're both here and that's great! It's great!"

Dora looked as bewildered as Remus felt as she exchanged a glance with her husband. "We're flattered, Teddy, but it couldn't have waited a couple of hours? You said you'd be back by six…"

"I know, I know! And I can't be long, Victoire's outside and she doesn't know I'm doing this but I've decided I want to and this is the place I want to do it, but I couldn't just go ahead without talking about it with you because it'll affect you too. The thing is…" Teddy paused a moment, puffing his cheeks as he took several what must have been very smoky breaths. "I've decided to propose to Victoire."

And with Dora's guilt stricken logic still wedged in his mind, Remus saw at once where Teddy's words were heading. _And she says he takes after me_…

"But of course that means we'll be getting a place of our own and I'll be moving out and we'll maybe even be having children of our own in a few years time. But the three of us – well, we've had relatively little time together as a family and the last thing I wanted you to think was that I was abandoning you or leaving you behind because I've got something better, because that's not the case at all. I love you both so much and we lost so many years we should have had together and I can hold off asking her for a while if you think it hasn't been enough…"

Remus couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing.

Teddy stared at him with bewildered horror. Dora regarded him rather more wryly.

"Sorry, Teddy," Remus heard her say. "I think your dad is formulating some manner of hysterical statement on how very alike we are."

"I am indeed." Still grinning broadly, Remus reached out and took his wife's hand as they dropped as one to a crouch in front of the fireplace and their son's confused face. "Teddy, for goodness sake, you don't have to worry about us. In fact…" He glanced at Dora and revelled for a moment in her suddenly radiant expression, at yet another strange new beginning for their strange little family. "I think there's something you ought to know…"

**THE END**

**A/N**: I don't intend to write any more great epics in this universe. But I do hope to write more bits and bobs for challenges or as the mood takes me in the future. I have one more short fic that follows after this that I wrote for a challenge a few weeks back that I deliberately left open ended for possible future continuation. Beyond that, it will entirely depend on whim, time constraints and circumstance, I'm afraid! Thanks for reading. :)


	3. Counting Legs

**A/N**:This story was written for the LJ community metamorfic_moon's Autumn Moonlight Jumble challenge in October 2008 for the prompts: Acromantula, Day of Uncertainty, St Mungo's, AU/Action-Adventure. Technically all used, even though I don't officially consider a story set in the universe of "A Little More Time" to be AU. Obviously…;pThis story also follows on a couple of months later from my second Portalverse piece Family Ties. I should probably also say that this fic was partly inspired by a news story that was knocking around a few months ago about a giant spider puppet wandering around Liverpool. Keep your eyes open, I even reference it in the text. ;p This story is unbeta-ed and as such is probably riddled with errors, especially in where and when to used Magical Capital Letters. I've done my best, but if I've cocked up, do let me know. I am also aware that there are several issues mentioned in this fic that aren't resolved at the end. This is deliberate - partly due to the prompt "Day of Uncertainty" (well, if I wrapped everything up, they'd be certain! ;p) and partly because I do have an idea for what's going on behind the scenes but what I don't have is time to write that aspect of it at present. I may come back to it one day though, time, inspiration and challenge prompts permitting…;p And now I shall shut up since this author's note is getting out of hand…;p

_**Counting Legs by Jess Pallas**_

A girl.

Remus couldn't quite believe it. His eyes drifted once more down to the magical photograph that a smiling Hestia Jones had handed them just a few minutes before, watching as the small, half-formed, but nonetheless recognisably human little shape on the paper twitched and floated before his eyes. He could hardly believe that that same delicate little creature was alive and nestled at that very moment in the womb of his wife. And it was a girl. A daughter.

He was going to have a _daughter_.

His eyes ran over the picture once more, automatically and obsessively checking that his first assumptions on seeing this image projected above his wife's bare stomach by Hestia's scanning spell had been correct – there were indeed two arms and two legs, a head and a tiny little body curled up neat and cosy in it's – in _her_ – warm home. And when Hestia had imprinted the image onto paper for them and asked with a smile if they'd like to know the gender…

They'd had none of this with Teddy. Even if it had been safe for them to visit St Mungo's during those turbulent times of war, the scanning spells, borrowed from Muggle ideas, had not developed until those post-war years when he and Dora had been – for want of a better word – _absent_. He hadn't even known that he was having a son until a perfect, fuzzy-crowned, warm little bundle had been lowered into his arms for the first time and looked up at him with those big eyes…

And now, there was going to be another. A daughter.

Back in his youth, if someone had told him he would become a father even once, he would have simply laughed at them. The prospect of _twice_ would likely have left him bitterly hysterical. And as for the idea of becoming a father to a little girl as his son was planning his _wedding_ to Bill Weasley's daughter…

He'd woken up that morning so uncertain as what his day would bring. Though Teddy seemed genuinely happy for them both at this turn of events, Dora continued to suffer from periodic bouts of guilt about enjoying the idea of this pregnancy and the prospect of another child when her experience with Teddy had been so different. She had confided to Remus the day before that she was worried that the pregnancy wasn't _really real_ to their son and that this scan might make it so. And if it was another boy, would he see him as some kind of replacement?

Remus, who had spoken privately to Teddy on that self-same subject, knew that his son did indeed feel sorrowful in regards to the upbringing they hadn't shared but that he also knew _far _better than most that the past was the past and nothing could change what had happened. And Teddy was far too generous a soul to ever begrudge his parents happiness with a new child just because they hadn't been able to share that with him, anymore than he would begrudge a sibling a share of their love.

But Dora had remained unsure, uncertain that she would be able to raise a new child, to give it the love it deserved without feeling guilty about the past, unable to enjoy the experience she couldn't have with her first baby, right up until the moment when the delicate little image of her daughter had hovered before her eyes…

Remus had known then that it had not been Teddy for whom the pregnancy had not been _really real_…

It was a new start. For all three of them. For all _four_…

His eyes fixed once more upon the picture. A _daughter_…

"Oi!" As they stepped into the reception area of St Mungo's, small fingers snatched the picture rather unceremoniously from his grasp as a shoulder barged playfully against his arm. "I'd like a look too, you know! You'd better not hog her like this once she's born, Remus, I'm warning you… Poor little thing, she'll probably end up cuddled to death…"

"I'd like to think there are worse ways to go." In spite of the abuse, Remus was far too happy to turn to his wife wearing anything other than a broad smile. Dora beamed back at him as she fingered the picture herself, her cheeky smile fading into a kind of misty sentimentality that she rarely submitted to in public. Given her oft stated assertion that violet made her look peaky, Remus and Teddy had been surprised that morning at breakfast when Dora had appeared with her hair morphed into a vast sweep of purple curls. When questioned, she had simply grinned and declared that she was waiting to see whether blue or pink would be more appropriate, so for the time being, she was hanging out in between.

She was hanging no longer.

It had been a strangely magical moment, as he'd stared down at her, lying there on the bed, hypnotically watching the image she'd just been handed and listening to Hestia's confirmation that it was indeed a girl. The change had started at the roots, a slow blossoming of pinkness like a trickle of water that spread throughout her hair, not of her usual bubblegum shade, but a gentle, pastel pink that had looped its way around her curls, softening them like down to rest against her shoulders as she stared at the image of their daughter with joyous awe writ large across her face. Framed as she still was by that gentle, almost hazy halo, her features almost seemed to glow.

They still did.

_Dear Gods, I love that woman_. _My wife, the mother of my children_…

He cleared his throat sharply against the lump that was forming there; to avoid making an embarrassingly emotional spectacle of himself in public, his eyes darted around to take in the usual orchestrated chaos that was the St Mungo's waiting area. The lines of rickety wooden chairs were as crowded as ever with the usual interesting array of accidents – a thin, stooped old man on the far side of the room was arguing fiercely with a lime-robed healer as green fur sprouted wildly across the length of his body whilst another wizard in lurid red robes was pirouetting continuously on the spot whilst whistling _The Blue Danube_ in a decidedly dizzy and sickly manner. A green-tinged man was crouched in a corner, pausing every so often to vomit something large, wriggling and silvery into an orange bucket and a pale faced witch who had only moments before stepped out of the nearby Floo, was shouting at her healer the top of her voice that she couldn't really hear what he was saying because of the invisible bananas her sister had stuffed in her ears. His eye also fell upon several of his students who had apparently, in the four days since the Hogwarts term had ended, managed to find efficient ways to come a cropper. Sebastian Hardcastle, the lynchpin of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, was covered in an array of vicious scratches and bruises that suggested he'd ploughed his broomstick into something foliage related. Elias Burke, a NEWT level student who he had told repeatedly not to try breaking the curses on items from his uncle's shop over the holidays, was wearing his lack of eyebrows and writhing serpentine hair with as much dignity as he could muster in the face of his blatant disobedience. And Remus didn't even like to speculate on how young Marion McCready had ended up with loaves of bread in place of her hands and feet.

Say what you would about visits to St Mungo's, they were certainly never _dull_.

Not that any day when he first saw his daughter could ever be classed as such.

His eyes turned inevitably back towards the woman he loved more than life itself. Dora was still staring at the picture, one hand resting gently on her abdomen as though trying to fuse the two together in her mind.

"I wish Teddy had come today," she said softly. "I'd like him to have shared this."

Remus smiled quietly. _How did I know that would be coming?_ "He will. But he and Victoire have barely had any time to start planning their wedding because of the Hogwarts exams and her apprenticeship here and I don't blame him for wanting to take advantage of his first few days off to get a few things sorted before the women in his life burst from impatience. From what Bill's told me, Victoire, Fleur, Molly and Andromeda have already picked out everyone's dress robes from Madam Malkin's and are chomping at the bit to haul us all in for a fitting." He chuckled. "Poor Teddy. He seems so daunted by the whole business. I told him elopement was the way to go, but would he listen?"

Dora actually giggled, much to his relief. "And it's a family tradition too. My parents did it, his parents did it…" She started to smile more widely. "I think my mum's thrown herself into this so heartily in an effort to make up for the fact that's she's never had a real family wedding before! And to be honest, rather her than me!" She gave a mock shudder. "I hate all that girly fussing! Looking at recipes with Molly, dress designs with Fleur, picking shoes, choosing flowers… _Nightmare _territory."

"It's lucky you've been excused on grounds of a prior commitment then." Remus gently touched his fingers to her stomach, causing her smile to bloom further. "Mind you, the way Teddy and Victoire are going, I doubt it'll be all that long before they'll here at St Mungo's looking at scans of their own. And we won't just be parents then, we'll be…"

"Oi!" Yet again, Remus' shoulder was viciously abused. "I've warned you, Lupin. We do not use the _g-word_ in the presence of any biologically under thirties, whether it should apply or _not_."

Remus couldn't help but laugh. "All right then. For the time being, we'll just stick with _mummy._"

The same strange, wistful look that had become so familiar to Remus over the course of this pregnancy flitted across Dora's face. "Mummy," she muttered softly. "I've never been _mummy_. Teddy wasn't old enough to call me anything when…"

She broke off into sudden silence as Remus quietly laid his arm around her shoulders. She glanced up at him, her dark eyes a turbulent cocktail of joy and regret.

"Remus, I've been thinking," she said suddenly. "About names."

Remus gently cocked an eyebrow. "Well, it's a little early, but since we know the gender, I guess there's no reason not to start thinking. Do you have one in mind?"

"Not really." Dora pursed her lips, staring out over the chaotic room with a stare distant enough to imply that she hadn't even noticed the ballet-wizard, or the furry old man or even the man with eight enormous spider-like legs protruding from a hunch on his back who had just stumbled out of the green-glowing fireplace to be received by a rather wide-eyed healer. "But I do have a suggestion. Why don't we let Teddy name her?"

Remus had to admit to being a little taken aback, if not unpleasantly. "Teddy?"

"Yeah, Teddy." Dora's expression was intent. "I wanted to give him a tangible connection to her, you know? I mean, she'll be his sister, but there'll be twenty-four years between them in age and it won't be the same, especially now he's moving out…" She sighed. "I want to make sure they bond. I want him to feel included in her life. He's her brother, so he can hardly be her godfather, but I thought if he was the one to name her…"

Remus gently tightened his hold around her shoulders. "I think that's a lovely…."

"Sweet Merlin, _it's alive!!!_"

The piercing scream shattered the familiar chaos, ripping away whatever else it was that Remus had been about to say. The healer who had screamed was stumbling, scrambling back, groping for her wand and suddenly, she wasn't the only one as patients and healers alike erupted to their feet en masse and surged backwards, sending wooden chairs, magazines, light globes and the poor, beleaguered pirouetter flying in all directions. Remus barely had time to yank Dora back against the wall before the crowd slammed passed them like a surging tide, scrabbling over each other, yanking and screaming as they tried to force themselves as one through the double doors into the narrow corridor beyond. Robes, hair, arms and faces slashed their way across Remus' vision, barging and buffeting him as he clung to his wife, shielding her as best he could from sudden battering of limbs, cloth and bizarrely, wet fish from the man who had until moments earlier been vomiting his trout more privately.

What the hell was going on?

A more sensible man would probably have joined the crowd without waiting to see what had spooked them. But Remus had spent too long as a lynchpin of the Order of the Phoenix not to keep his head when all around were losing theirs and he knew that fear for her baby or not, Dora's finely honed Auror instincts would stay her just the same. His fingers tightened around his wand. If there was trouble, he was staying.

Of course, it was always useful to know what in Merlin's name you were up against.

Something black and hairy flashed through the gaps in the flailing limbs. Still shielding himself and his wife from flying hands and scrambling fingers, Remus peered desperately through the insane stampede in search of danger. A flare of emerald caught his eye – whipping his head round, he caught a glimpse of a silver-haired, narrow-faced man in shabby clothes diving forwards towards the fireplace. As the flash of Floo powder illuminated his face in vivid emerald, Remus just had time to place him as the man who had appeared moments before with spider legs across his back. But there was something else about him, something more, half forgotten, something naggingly familiar…

But there was no time to ponder it. With a tight grin, the man leapt into the flames and vanished.

But as the last of the crowd thinned, Remus realised that the spider's legs he had arrived with did not. And nor indeed did the spider's _body_.

"Oh _bloody hell_," he heard Dora mutter fervently.

_Well. That certainly explains the screaming and the running away_…

The Acromantula was balanced precariously between the desk of the Welcome Witch and several of the overturned chairs, clearly slightly thrown by the massed chaos that had marked its arrival. It was perhaps three quarters-grown but a ten-foot leg span was still nothing to scoff at and its multiple eyes were swivelling after the fleeing hordes as though unable to decide whether to follow.

But not everyone had fled. The green-furred old man, tangled in clumps of his ever-growing mane, was crouched in the corner by the glass pane of the public entrance, clinging to the robes of his now frantic healer and screaming. And from the floor in front of them came a clatter and a painful wail as the pirouetter, knocked to the ground in the chaos, continued his helpless rotations lying prone amongst the scattered chairs.

Eight eyes swivelled in all directions, drinking in the scene as the last of the patients who were able to fled clear. An ominous clicking echoed across the room almost drowning out the frantic tumbling beat of Remus's blood against his ears.

_Dora. My daughter. And we're in a room with an Acromantula_.

_An _upset and angry_ Acromantula_.

_Where's Hagrid when you need him?_

They could have fled. The door was not far enough away to make it unreasonable. But Remus knew more than enough about dark creatures to realise what would be the fate of the three left behind if he did.

And as for Dora…

Well, it was worth a try at least.

"Get out!" he flung back sharply.

"Get stuffed!" was the immediate response.

_Saw that one coming. And she knows I haven't time to argue_…

One long, hairy leg arched down towards the floor as the clicking sounds redoubled, echoing around the near deserted reception. The pirouetter screeched as a second leg arched over to brush almost lovingly down the length of his ever rotating body…

"_Stupefy!_"

"_Petrificus Totalis!_"

Their rapidly flung spells struck the beast almost simultaneously, but to little impact – whilst Remus' stunner drove it back only a few yards, Dora's Body-bind struck the extended leg, causing it to stiffen in an awkward, painful looking arch. The creature screeched and lunged towards them with shocking speed, but a burst of flames from Remus' wand tip sent it staggering, rearing backwards with an unearthly scream. Gritting his teeth, Remus increased the intensity of the flame, desperate to drive it away before it could pounce onto any or all of its potential victims.

"_Accio spinning bloke_!"

Even in spite of the gravity of the situation, Remus had to fight not to smile. Dora grabbed the red blur of the beleaguered twirling wizard out of the air, hurled him back on his feet and with a mighty shove, propelled him like a human top through the double doors and into the corridor beyond. One civilian cleared, her wand flashed out and a surge of white light coalesced sharply into the form of her werewolf Patronus. After an instant's hesitation, it surged through the wall and was gone.

_Gone for the cavalry. Thank Merlin, because I don't think I can_…

With a sudden burst of speed, the Acromantula darted out of the way of the surge of flames and launched itself into the air. A spit of web against the ceiling was all it required to make it airborne and suddenly Remus's vision was filled with black legs and a terrible screeching sound. He felt himself thrust backwards as pincers slashed just inches from his face, his body ricocheting sharply against the wall for an instant before a second hairy-legged blow send him flying into the scattered wooden chairs. He heard the sound the breaking wood beneath him; pain surged through his left arm as a chair splintered viciously against his skin, but he had no time to contemplate his injury as a black leg slammed down against the floor mere inches from his face. Light was blotted out in an instant as the enormous spider straddled his body, pincers clicking, maw widening as it dived in for the kill.

"_No!_"

The chair swung out of nowhere, striking the Acromantula with the force of an errant hurricane. The creature reared, legs flailing as wooden splinters filled Remus' vision and with instinctive speed, he responded, grasping a broken chair leg and thrusting it upwards with all his might.

The result was not as satisfying as he might have hoped; the blow scuffed the spider's side, spilling out a brief squirt of green ichor, but was enough of a distraction for him to scramble to his knees and shove his way out from its grasp. Small hands caught his robes, hauling him to his feet – he had time for one quick glimpse of Dora's ice-white face and dark eyes staring at him with a mixture of relief and terror.

"Thanks!" he gasped out. "You…"

A flash of misty white skimmed past his head – reacting on instinct, Remus dove to the ground, pulling Dora with him as a vast dollop of webbing smacked against the wall behind them. A blur of black was quick to follow – slapping against the wall, the Acromantula launched itself violently around the edge of the room for a moment before hurling itself across the reception, skidding against chairs and magazines as it skittered towards fresh targets. The green-furred man's scrambling had left his healer hopelessly tangled in his now three-foot loops of dark green hair but at the sight of an enormous spider bearing down upon them both, adrenalin galvanised him into action – grasping his charge firmly by the robes, he hurled them both bodily out through the rippling glass pane that led onto the Muggle street.

And with barely a hesitation, the Acromantula surged forwards and followed them.

Remus felt his jaw drop with horror. _Oh, that is _phenomenally_ not good_…

Dora was already running forwards; in spite of knowing it was futile, Remus decided to give it one last try.

"Dora, you should stay…"

The look she shot over her shoulder was enough to still his tongue. "I'm _pregnant_, Remus, not an _invalid_!" she snapped back; it was only then that Remus realised that she was still clutching their precious picture of their daughter in one hand. "And I'm doing my job. Those Muggles need all the help they can get!"

_She's right. Even if_…

But there was no more time to ponder it. Running forwards to join his wife, the couple surged through the glass pane together.

Fortunately, in the finest traditions of a British summer, the weather outside was dreadful. Slashing heavy rain had driven most of the shoppers that would usually have thronged this broad street inside and had reduced the visibility considerably. But it was still sufficient for Remus to see screaming figures abandoning their umbrellas and fleeing in a hail of splashing, to see cars swerving, hear horns blaring as the chaos spread. A red double-decker bus had screeched to a splashy halt half up the pavement perhaps ten yards down the road, crowded with bewildered faces pressed to misty windows and Remus caught a glimpse of a flash of green – the healer had just thrust his green furred charge onto the bus's back platform. Wincing briefly at the job that would face the Ministry Obliviators as the Muggle passengers gaped, Remus forced himself to turn to the far more important issue.

_Where the hell is the Acromantula?_

An image of his late father, a former Ministry Exterminator, flashed across his mind. He had shared many nuggets of advice about his numerous captures with his son over the years and now seemed a damned good time for one of his pearls of wisdom.

_What was it dad always used to say about creatures loose in towns? Oh yes. If all else fails, follow the screams_…

A particularly loud screech rose from just down the street on his right.

_Ah. That way_.

Shoving aside an abandoned umbrella, Remus launched himself in the direction of the bus, trying to ignore the slip and slide of his feet on the damp, treacherous pavement and the vicious slap of heavy rain against his face as he raced towards the sound with Dora hot on his heels. As he raced past the stranded bus with only a started glance from its wild-eyed driver – _Oh Merlin, I'm still wearing my robes! _- a Muggle sandwich bar with big, glass windows loomed ahead, terrified customers knocking over tables as they scrambled back away from the giant black shape that had just slammed headfirst into the glass. The Acromantula shook itself, scraping one leg in apparent bemusement at the glass for a moment, before turning and leaping with shocking agility onto the windscreen of a small, blue Muggle car that had just screeched to a halt behind the desperately manoeuvring bus. The driver, a wild-haired young woman wearing red-rimmed spectacles, screamed powerfully and lurched back in her seat as the giant spider scrabbled at her windscreen, whilst her companion, a wide-lipped blonde in the passenger seat, in a move Remus considered foolhardy rather than brave, flung open the door and hurled herself up the pavement and into the sandwich bar just inches ahead of the scuttling black legs that darted after her. Customers and staff in the bar immediately rallied as they chucked chairs and tables against the hurriedly slammed door en masse and the Acromantula, after a few more futile moments to break in, decided that there was easier prey to be had and with a damp skid, wheeled and launched a great flock of webbing across the floundering red bus's rear end, tangling the wheels impossibly and locking it in place.

_This is not going well._

The Statute of Secrecy, at least in regards to furry green wizards and giant man-eating spiders, had been blown right out of the water already, but using blatant magic on the street was still something that Remus desperately wanted to avoid. But the sudden appearance of the car had given him another option.

The driver was still pinned to her seat, terrified, moving only to reach out and slam the abandoned passenger door closed. She had no room to manoeuvre – a large silver 4x4 had careened to a stop behind her, followed by a white transit van, cutting off any option to reverse. Even as he heard Dora screaming at some nearby gawpers that she was Police and everyone was to clear the area _now_, Remus acted. The sleep spell and the cushioning charm he threw at the poor driver took effect immediately, even as he wrestled with the spells to rev up the Muggle engine. Sirius' highly illegal experiments with his motorbike had given Remus a basic working knowledge of Muggle automotives and he knew just what components he needed to turn the stalled engine back on.

_Oh, I am going to get in so much trouble for this! But if it stops anyone getting _eaten_…_

The engine roared into life. And then, with a burst of speed, the blue car thrust forwards and slammed into the Acromantula, hurling it brutally into the bus's rear end.

A harsh braking charm was enough to ensure that the car did not follow, but Remus was already running as the giant spider bounced and rolled across onto the other side of the road, scrabbling, legs waving over the top of a green car as it whacked against a parking meter and tumbled onto the opposite pavement. A few bravely stupid gawpers on the far side of the street who had ignored Dora's strident cries, turned and fled out of the way as long legs scratched at the air in search of purchase; they found it as another slash of web thrust out, securing itself to the dark front of a Waterstones book shop as the Acromantula landed with a thump on the side of the building. The Sticking Charm that Dora hurled after it from behind the concealment of the bus secured it for an instant to the old-fashioned hanging sign, but a brutal yank of one leg was enough to wrench the sign from its fastening, dragging it along with a vicious battering sound as the giant spider turned and skittered away along the shop fronts. A moment later, to Remus' weary horror, it leapt down once more, narrowing missing a Muggle Police officer as he dived for cover in Woolworths before it hurled itself onto the roof of the now abandoned white transit van and cast around through the heavy rain in search of fresh prey.

"Remus!" Dora's pale face appeared sudden and breathless by his side. "There! Look!"

For an instant, Remus was unable to spot quite what had caught her attention so avidly. But then his eyes fell upon a reasonably sized delivery van parked at the entrance to a narrow side street by a furniture shop perhaps twenty yards away, apparently abandoned, half unloaded as its driver fled. The back door was wide open and gaping.

A perfect trap.

"I'll spring it, you close it!"

It took perhaps a second too long for Dora's words to register in Remus' brain. His hurried "No, Dora, _wait_!" came far too late; spitting curses he hurled himself after her as she rushed up past the Acromantula, jumping up and down and waving her arms.

"Oi, hairy boy, you hungry? Well, come on then! Come and get me! Nice fat haunch of Auror, right here!"

Acromantulas were reasonably intelligent as dark creatures went and one treacherous part of Remus couldn't help but hope that the monster would be too smart to take this tempting bait. But with almost all the Muggles now safely behind glass shop windows, its menu for fresh meat was sadly limited. Hunger outweighed common sense in the arachnid's mind.

The Acromantula struck.

The burst of web missed Dora by inches as she flung herself to the ground – the spider hurled itself through the air towards her, legs extended, pincers clicking but Remus was far too fired up to miss his target and his stunning spell hurled the Acromantula with a turbulent thud into the pile of furniture. Dora's wand lashed out and suddenly the door was descending at a shockingly rapid rate. One hairy leg lashed out, but the descending door was too fast, severing half the limb with a shocking crunch and a spurt of green blood. The van rocked violently as the Acromantula within reacted with understandable ire to its wounding and confinement, but as Remus rushed over, he couldn't have given as Kappa's arse about how the creature was feeling. He only had eyes for his wife.

His pregnant wife. Carrying his daughter.

Who'd just risked her life and been thrown to the ground on several occasions.

_Why did I let her come? Why didn't I stun her and leave in reception? Dear Gods, if anything's happened to either of them_…

He caught her arm as she pulled herself to her feet, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her soft pink hair. Suddenly, he became painfully aware of just how much his left arm was throbbing under his blood-spotted robes, of how frantically his heartbeat was pounding in his ears, of how sharp and hard the raindrops that had soaked them both from head to foot were falling and how wet his feet were as they stood together, soaking up the contents of the puddle in the flooded gutter with their shoes. He could feel her heartbeat mingling with his, heard her sigh as she settled against his chest and in spite of the fact that his brain was screaming at him to scoop her up, rush her back to the red brick shop front of Purge & Dowse and get her checked out immediately by as many healers as he could get his hands on, some part of him simply seemed to know that everything – _everyone _– involved in that embrace was still okay.

"Don't you _ever_ do that again!" he commanded hoarsely. He felt rather than heard her chuckle against his chest.

"What, offer myself up as lunch to a raving Acromantula in the middle of a busy Muggle street? Not planning on it, Remus."

Over the tumbling of the rain and joint pounding of three heartbeats, Remus suddenly became aware of distant sirens, of the sound of doors opening, voices muttering, footsteps emerging. He opened his eyes.

Muggles. Everywhere.

With camera-phones.

_Oh dear_…

"I'm not sure there are enough Obliviators in the _world _to cover this," he muttered softly. "I'll probably be apologising to Harry for the _rest of my life_. How are they ever going to hush this up?"

Dora glanced up from within the cradle of his arms. "They'll think of something. Though they'd better get here soon." She glanced around once more at the vast seas of faces emerging into the pouring rain. "Otherwise nothing's going to keep the evening news from reporting the stories of a bunch of shoppers who got saved from a giant spider by a pink-haired policewoman and a mad transvestite…"

* * *

It was approximately four hours later that Harry Potter finally reappeared, weary and frazzled looking, in the hospital room where Remus and Dora had been checked over for injuries a little while before. Both had been sitting quietly by the window watching as the Muggle street below slowly returned to normal activity once more, Remus rubbing his still tender arm and Dora resting her hands securely on her stomach, until the opening door and Harry's tired smile drew their attention away from the clean up.

"How are you both?" he queried immediately. "How's the baby?"

Dora smiled and patted her belly. "She's fine. Probably didn't feel a thing, lucky blighter."

Rather touchingly, Harry's expression softened noticeably. "She?"

Remus couldn't help but smile. _My daughter_… "We didn't really have a chance to mention it earlier. But yes. It's a girl."

Harry's smile was broad. "Congratulations. You must be thrilled."

"Moderately thrilled, yes." Remus grinned as his wife elbowed him, muttering something about how long it had taken her to pry the photo off him. He gestured to the window. "But it all got rather overshadowed by chasing an Acromantula through Muggle London."

"I can imagine." Harry frowned, pushing his glasses back up his nose with a sigh. "It took ages to straighten everything out – getting that Acromantula shipped off to somewhere secure, shifting the webbing, charming the CCTV and the phone footage, fixing the damage to the shops and the vehicles – and yes, Remus, I did fix that woman's car for her like you asked," he added, forestalling the question he must have seen hovering on his former teacher's lips. "I've also conveniently forgotten that you told me you charmed a Muggle object, so don't bring up it again, okay?" He took a deep breath. "The poor woman was in a state though and as for the shoppers…" He shook his head. "I've never seen a team of Obliviators have to work so hard. By the time they were done, they'd Memory-Charmed upwards of one hundred people."

Dora sat up straighter, her nose adorably wrinkled. "What in Merlin's name did they make them think had happened? They couldn't have done anything complex to that many Muggles."

Harry grinned slightly. "As far as they're concerned, they've just witnessed an irresponsible publicity stunt by a team of shock-tactic guerrilla artists trying to make a name for themselves by using a giant, fake, radio-controlled spider puppet to wreak havoc in central London." He chuckled slightly. "It's a good thing you were there, you know, Tonks. Having someone with pink hair rushing about in the midst of the chaos immediately helped people think it was some mad art students pulling a stunt. After all, everyone knows pink hair is linked to subversive types like that…"

Dora snorted. "And proud to be so. But will they really _believe _that?"

Harry shrugged. "It's worked before. An Acromantula got loose in Liverpool quite a few years back and the Obliviators managed to convince everyone that it was a giant puppet taking part in a culture festival. They even faked some footage for the _news._" He pulled a face as he dropped back into a convenient chair. "Tell you what though. I'm ruddy _knackered._"

Remus couldn't help but squirm. "Harry, I really am very sorry about all this trouble…"

"_Remus_!" Harry rather abruptly cut him off, though his smile was tinged as much with fondness as irritation. "How many times am I going to have to say this? You did the best you could in an impossible situation. And you made sure no one was killed. That was what really mattered and we're all very grateful for it. So stop _beating yourself up_." He shook his head slightly, his expression darkening. "Save your recriminations for the git who did this."

Remus couldn't help but notice that his wife immediately sat up straighter at the mention of the perpetrator. Nymphadora Tonks might be a wife, a mother and a Metamorphmagus, but she was also an Auror right down to the bone.

"Any leads?" she asked intently.

Harry sighed and shook his head. "We're trying to trace to Floo connection but St Mungo's gets so many connections a day, it's hard to single the right one out. Kevin Anderson from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures questioned the Acromantula earlier with Zenobia Moon. It wasn't exactly feeling co-operative but they did manage to establish that it was drugged and taken from the Forbidden Forest sometime in the last few weeks and kept locked up and starved; that's why it was so keen for a _meal_. The reason it didn't eat the git who carried it in was that he'd put some kind of spell on it that wasn't broken until that healer tapped it with her wand. The poor woman thought it was a Transfiguration accident until it rose up and leapt at her…"

Dora was slowly shaking her head. "Why would anyone do that? What kind of sick bastard brings a hungry Acromantula to a _hospital_?"

"I've no idea," said Harry darkly, his expression grimly determined. "But I intend to find out. Want to be on the case, Tonks?"

Dora gave a grim little laugh. "Try and stop me."

Remus briefly considered protest, but decided that he valued his life too much to try. Instead, he focussed on the matter in hand. "Could you find any matches for the description the healer and I gave you?"

Harry grimaced slightly. "We found a few. We've got the healer looking at pictures and we're checking their alibis. If you could drop into the office tomorrow and take a look as well…"

Remus nodded, the image of the narrow-faced man flashing once more across his mind's eye. "Of course. I just wish I could remember where I've seen him before. Because I'd swear I know him from somewhere…"

"Well, keep thinking." With a groan, Harry rose to his feet, pausing a moment to pat first his fellow Auror and then his former teacher on the shoulder. "If it comes to you…"

Remus smiled gently. "I shall inform Auror Tonks immediately."

"Thanks." From the half-open door, Harry glanced back over his shoulder. "Go on home, both of you. And try and stay out of trouble, okay?"

Remus couldn't help but smile. "Who'd have thought, Harry, after all these years since I was your teacher, that you would end up being the one to say that to me?"

Harry laughed out loud. "What can I say, Professor Lupin? You taught me well!"

As the door closed behind Harry, Remus pulled himself achily to his feet, holding out his hand so that Dora could follow suit.

"Well," he said quietly. "Quite a day."

Dora gave his arm a gentle shove. "You and your understatement, Lupin. Come on. We'd better get home before Teddy hears what's happened on the Wizarding Wireless and comes out to hunt us down. Plus we need to tell him he's about to have a little sister, not to mention that he needs to invest in a book of baby names. And what a story we'll have to tell her about the day we got this!"

She held out the now slightly battered but still enchanting photo Hestia had given them earlier. It seemed like both seconds and a lifetime ago.

Remus held the door open politely as he ushered his wife through. _His daughter_. Now they knew. The day had started with the uncertainty of what nature of little life they would be guiding through the world six months from now and ended with the uncertainty of knowing there was a bizarrely familiar man on the loose releasing monsters into hospitals. But even an Acromantula chase through central London couldn't change the fact that he was going to have a _baby girl_…

"You know," he remarked blandly. "If Teddy can't think of a name for her, I might have a suggestion. In honour of today."

Dora's pink head rose curiously. "Oh?"

"Mmm." Remus felt the grin starting to spread across the corners of her lips in spite of himself. "How about _Arachne_…"

It took a couple of days for the bruises his wife inflicted on his shoulder to heal. But Remus considered them well worth it.

**THE END**


	4. Ill Met By Moonlight Part One

**A/N**: Yes, I know it's been a while but I'm not writing much in the way of fic these days because I'm trying to concentrate on finishing my original fantasy novel. I can't resist a good challenge call though and this story was written for the **metamorfic_moon** Midsummer Tales challenge on Live Journal to the prompts Hotel or Holiday Cottage and :

"Every time I look at you the world just melts away  
All my troubles all my fears dissolve in your affections  
You've seen me at my weakest but you take me as I am  
And when I fall you offer me a softer place to land." Push - Sarah McLachlan

It follows on a few months after Counting Legs and picks up the mystery I left hanging there. And since it went utterly nuts on me and topped 10, 000 words, I'll be posting it in two parts. Enjoy. :)

**Ill Met By Moonlight by Jess Pallas**

**Part One**

BANG!

CRASH!

_Oh sweet Merlin. What the bloody hell have I got myself into now?_

It was moments like this that Tonks couldn't help but feel that some of Remus' frequent jibes about her impulsive nature and total lack of forward planning might just have a tinge of accuracy about them. After all, if she'd taken a moment or two to think this through, perhaps at least let somebody, _anybody_ know where she was going before she'd gone there, then maybe she wouldn't now be stuck wandless in the attic of a rotting, creaky old seafront hotel whilst an extremely cranky graphorn did its level best to smash the trapdoor she'd pulled closed, the ladder she'd climbed up, the floorboards on which she stood and indeed anything else that happened to be in its way to pieces.

BAM!

The fragile, woodworm riddled support beams gave a distinctly unhealthy lurch. The floor creaked ominously. Judging by the genuine darkness that had set in outside, she'd already been trapped for getting on for an hour and until recently the boards had held out well. But the graphorn was mindlessly persistent and showed no sign of losing interest. If she didn't get out of here soon, the blasted thing was going bring the entire _building_ down.

And knowing her luck, the man who'd got her into this was probably long gone by now. And no help would be coming unless… Would Remus have noticed how long she'd been gone? Would he try and come after her in spite of what night it was?

She wasn't sure if she wanted that or not. Even Kingsley would have trouble defending him if anybody saw…

Oh bloody hell. A holiday had seemed like such a _good_ idea at the time.

But what else could she have done? She was an Auror. And to have Britain's most wanted criminal just wander into her path like that... How could she have turned her back? He'd caused four deaths now and untold chaos in the few months since his vindictive campaign had started. The whole Auror division had been hunting him since June with only the most meagre success. She'd gone for a walk, just a walk and he'd been standing there in that broken down old hotel's doorway as though butter wouldn't melt, grasping a too familiar potion bottle…

She glanced down at the bulge of her ever swelling stomach and sighed. One of these days she would learn to start thinking for _two_…

To her left, pale silver light glinted through a narrow, broken window. The full moon gleamed.

Wood splintered violently mere inches from her foot. Twin long sharp horns that a horde of apothecaries would have paid a small fortune to acquire lanced up through the abruptly gashed hole.

Well, there was no going down and she couldn't lurk here for much longer. And stupid as it seemed on top of a five storey building, the attic window was as good as it was going to get. Trying desperately to ignore the disconcerting lurch and shake of the floorboards beneath her, Tonks staggered as best she could over to the dirty, pitted window frame, knocking the clinging remainders of the misty glass out of the way with a nearby lump of graphorn-shattered wood. She peered outside.

The sea stretched away before her, dark and imposing, lit only by the old-fashioned wrought iron lamps of the promenade. The beach itself was invisible beneath darkness and tide but she could just make out the hunkered shape of the bench she and Remus had sat together on only a few hours before, beside the children's play area that was now no more than a series of odd, shadowed heaps by moonlight. Below, the haphazard roof-tiles slipped down to an extremely perilous looking gutter before falling away towards the coloured paving of the promenade.

And then she saw it. And froze.

For lingering beneath the glow of the nearest lamp stood a lean werewolf. It was staring at her.

So a werewolf was waiting for her. But the question was _which one_?

Tonks gritted her teeth. This wasn't the way this week had been supposed to go. Even just a few hours before, it had been so different. She stared at the dark shape of the bench and just for a moment the scream of breaking wood, the roar of the angry graphorn and the inexplicable gaze of the waiting werewolf all faded away. There was nothing, nothing but that afternoon, nothing but sunshine and ice cream and a warm, bony shoulder on which to rest her head…

* * *

"That can't be comfortable."

Barely pausing from her intensive assault on her chocolate and raspberry ripple ice cream cone, Tonks nevertheless managed to stick an extremely sticky tongue in the direction of her husband's cheek as she pointedly snuggled more firmly into the admittedly rather sharp cornered shoulder that she had commandeered the moment they'd sat down on the seafront bench. Remus winced and pulled a face.

"And that's disgusting," he informed her with a prissy indignity that was entirely put on. "For you, lady-like is something that happens to other people, isn't it?" He gestured to the cavorting band of children hurling themselves around the little play area just to their right, leaping down slides and bouncing noisily on a small trampoline. "What kind of example is that to set for impressionable children, hmmm? Will you teaching our daughter things like that?"

"Spoken like a true teacher." Tonks slurpily helped herself to another cooling dose of unhealthy goodness as she tilted her head to drink in the warm August sunshine beating down upon the promenade. Below, the distant sea was sparkling as it slowly but surely began its inevitable advance to consume the expansive sands. "It's the _summer holidays_, Remus. Let it go." She waggled her eyebrows playfully. "Unless of course you want to give me a _detention_."

Remus offered a pointed glance in the direction of her five month old bump before rolling his eyes. "I don't think either of us are quite in the right state for the practical element of that innuendo," he remarked with what Tonks considered to be unreasonable common sense. "Given that between us we've managed a grand total of three hundred yards down the promenade before having to sit down. Not to mention you're on your third _energy-boosting_ ice cream."

With deliberate exactitude, Tonks allowed her tongue to work its way around the rim of the cone. "It's a craving," she retorted deliberately. "You can't deny a pregnant woman what she's craving, can you?"

Remus eyed with outright suspicion. "I wouldn't dream of it," he drawled. "Even if I have noticed that your cravings tend to err in the direction of the sweetest, stickiest thing that happens to be available at the time."

"I don't know what you're talking about." With a crunch, Tonks delved her way into the ice cream caverns hidden in the depths of the cone. "Coincidence, pure and simple."

"Hmph." Remus folded his arms but Tonks could tell by the set of his jaw line that he was only playing around. "So it was cravings that made you have three chocolate based desserts at lunch?"

"It's awful. I just can't control myself."

"And the two boxes of luxury biscuits on your desk at work?"

"Harry Potter is a liar and a snitch."

"He said it took three days for the swelling on Zach Woodvine's hand to go down."

"My biscuits are _my biscuits_. Stealing them means consequences."

"But hexing the tin?"

"I was practising the spells and the tins got in the way. I wanted to make sure that the next time we're on the trail of our friend the Monster Master, we can bring him down before he gets anybody _else_ hurt."

Tonks felt rather than saw the gentle gaze that Remus had fixed upon her at the sudden hardening of her tone. "It really wasn't your fault, you know. Everybody's said so."

The Auror felt herself sigh. It had been a hard few months for the Auror office. The incident with the acromantula in St Mungo's had seemed so huge at the time, but to the horror of the entire wizarding world, it had turned out to be the tip of a highly unpleasant iceberg. It had been the troll in Hogsmeade next, followed by the horde of kappas unleashed in _The Leaky Cauldron_, the angry griffin in the reception of the Ministry, the Hairy MacBoon in Gringotts and, _oh Merlin_, the lethifold on the Knight Bus that had consumed a goblin, a witch and two wizards asleep on their beds before it had been spotted by the driver and driven away by a curse breaker who happened to be on board. And at every place, a burnt and tattered note would be hurled through the Floo or found on the floor tied to a lump of rock.

**THIS is a monster**.

And the deaths had been her fault.

She'd seen him. That narrow face, grey hair, the harsh expression that had stared down from wanted posters, from the front pages of the _Prophet _and the _Crucible_ had darted across her vision as she'd rushed into Diagon Alley in response to the Gringotts call. Just for a moment, she'd had a clean shot.

And she'd missed it. Missed him. A screaming witch had pounded into her as she'd fired and her spell had ricocheted off a hanging sign and stunned a bewildered shopper instead. The eruption of an enormous, hairy, five-legged monster out of Gringotts behind her had distracted her attention and by the time she'd been able to turn back, the Monster Master had been long gone.

And in his next attack, four innocent people had died.

The Monster Master. It was the _Prophet_'s name for him and it had stuck. And despite the posters and the campaigns and Remus' almost desperate efforts to remember where he might have seen the man before, a real name continued to elude them. The attacks until recently had been weekly events and all Auror leave had been cancelled – it had only been after a lull of more than a fortnight that Harry had been willing to grant any of his Aurors time off at all. Normally Tonks and Remus would not have dreamed about going away during a week that contained a full moon, but as things stood, they simply had to take what they could get.

It had been a shame that Teddy and Victoire had been unable to join them. The four of them had planned to go away together at some point that summer but Victoire had been unable to get leave from St Mungo's and Teddy hadn't wanted to desert her to deal with the latest ideas of a family full of amateur wedding planners alone. But they'd spoken by Floo last night, rebuffing yet another attempt he made to offer them a list of baby names. Teddy was a worrier like his father and the responsibility of naming his new baby sister had left him in a desperate tizzy not to pick something they'd hate. But Tonks was determined that the choice was going to be his and that, like it or not, whatever he picked would be it. As Remus had pointed out afterwards though, telling him that hadn't necessarily _helped_.

But a holiday was a holiday, with or without Teddy, and even if with the full moon looming, Remus was tired and achy and Tonks was tired and heavy; both of them were determined to enjoy whatever they could manage in the quiet little seaside town they'd retreated to. The town was the unwitting home to Bubblins, wizarding Britain's first ever holiday camp, with its cheery red-cloaked entertainers, but much as Remus in particular would have preferred to shun the terrifying prospect of fun en masse, the regulations regarding werewolves did state that they were asked not to transform in Muggle public premises. That meant an immediate limitation on any holiday spots and so they had booked a Bubblins chalet (accepting the proviso that Remus drink his wolfsbane in front of reliable witnesses before arrival) and fled the camp early each morning to avoid having to be sociable. Tonks personally had no huge objections to wart growing competitions and hippogriff rides, although sing-along with Celestina had sent her fleeing for the exits. But the look on Remus' face as they'd arrived had suggested to her strongly that the wellbeing of her husband over the next few days depended on keeping him away from the unrelenting horror of anyone likely to wish him "_a bright and bubbly Bubblins day!_"

But the horror would have to be faced soon. The afternoon was winding down.

"We'll have to head back soon." The look on Remus' face told her at once that he hadn't missed the way she'd dodged the painful subject but he chose not to press the matter. "This afternoon's wearing on and we aren't exactly speedy."

It was Remus' turn to sigh. "Ah yes, my pending monthly appointment. Joy of joys."

Tonks squeezed his hand. "At least the wolfsbane programme is reliable these days. You don't have to worry about all those doses or getting a bad batch."

"I know." Remus gazed absently out towards the rolling sea for a moment. "But it's never going to be _fun_." He glanced down at her. "If you want to take a walk this evening, go right ahead, I won't be offended. I know it'll be quite late with the summer sun but…"

Tonks struggled to hide her grimace. She had witnessed her husband's transformation a couple of times in their life together and, cruel as it made her feel, she had no desire to repeat the experience. Only a masochist would voluntarily endure watching the person they loved in so much pain.

"I might," she said softly. "If you don't mind."

His smile was one of relief. "Of course not. Come on then." He rose rather tentatively and offered her his hand. "Let's head back. Unless of course you have a sudden overwhelming urge to try out that trampoline."

He jerked his head in the direction of the play area as she laughed. "Nah," she replied, nuzzling her head back into his bony shoulder once more as they linked arms and turned back the way they had come. "Me on a trampoline? I'd be lucky to come away with all my limbs still attached."

"It'd be a softer bounce than the paving stones. Although after all those ice creams you could probably get up a decent ripple on the promenade…"

"Oi!" She poked him in the shoulder. "I'll have you know this belly is your doing and nothing else!"

She spotted the innocent air with which he grinned at once. "I'm starting to wonder. I mean, how would it look to everyone if come December you gave birth to a bouncing baby Cornetto?"

Tonks glared into his neck. "I hope you realise that if I wasn't a loving wife who is sensitive to your currently delicate disposition, you'd be dead meat right now."

"Oh, completely," Remus replied with an airy smile. "I thought of that joke the first day we got here, after that raid you made on that poor unsuspecting Muggle ice cream van. Why do you think I waited until today to say it?"

* * *

The promenade was quiet against a backdrop of thickening twilight. Bubblins had been a noisy mass when she'd left, a cheerful horde of badly-tuned voices all gathered in the glass building shaped like a half-buried crystal ball as young and old alike belted out badly-tuned renditions of the latest musical hits. But this little Muggle seaside town was not a place designed by nature to have a heavy nightlife – the reeling, drunken young revellers that couldn't afford to hold their parties in warmer climbs tended to head for the bright lights of better known resorts further down the coast. Tonks suspected that in spite of the waning tourist industry here, that was probably a matter of no small relief to the local residents.

A late night ice cream van might have been nice though. And it was definitely a _craving_. She didn't care what Remus thought.

Remus.

Tonks glanced at the sky. The bloated full moon had still yet to make an appearance on the darkening horizon. Her husband was still human.

For now.

Tonks had never cared that the man she'd fallen so deeply in love with was a werewolf. But that didn't mean she had to _like _it.

He'd still be waiting then. Lurking naked in the spare bedroom of their rented chalet with that ratty old yellow blanket that Molly had made him years ago. He generally set aside a bowl of water and some sandwiches too and even a book, since, in Remus' little world, spending the night as a werewolf with a wolfsbane-preserved human mind was as good a time as any to catch up on some reading. He'd just been in the process of locking himself in when she'd kissed his cheek and left, promising to be back right after moonset. He liked to have someone call through the door. Just in case. Just to be sure he was _himself_…

It was his routine. She knew it off by heart. When had being married to a man who turned into a wolf once a month become so mundane?

It seemed wrong that something so extraordinary and horrific should become so every day. But it was infinite times better than the alternative.

She still remembered that awful year after Sirius died, the state she'd seen him in after a transformation with Greyback's pack. Lying wrapped in a blanket with some sandwiches and a book was _nothing_…

Her eyes drifted along the shadowy promenade. It was getting very late now and night was making a serious effort of rolling in. The trampoline, swings and slides of the children's play area formed dusky shapes opposite the ragged outline of a derelict old hotel. The rainbow colours of the play equipment leeched away in the twilight even as the same creeping night-time blurred the edges of the boarded up windows and gaping maw of a doorway…

The open gaping maw. With a shadow standing inside it.

With an awkward stutter, the first of the promenade's cast iron lanterns chose that moment to hum into life. It was the one directly beside the hotel.

The face it illuminated was very familiar. The bottle he held even more so.

Tonks froze. It was the surprise as much as anything. But several seconds of highly unprofessional staring was enough to confirm what her eyes had told her. A narrow, unshaven face, a shock of wild grey hair all over shabby clothes and lurking in his hands, a potion bottle of such familiar shape and colour that it made her blood run cold.

The Monster Master. And he was holding a bottle of _wolfsbane_.

For one cold instant, Tonks was convinced that this had to have something to do with Remus, that this collector of dangerous monsters must have followed him here in order to unleash him upon Bubblins and the town as the latest ploy in his terrible game. But even as she backed hurriedly away into the shadow of the now shuttered snack kiosk, the sane and logical part of her brain kicked back in. Remus had had his wolfsbane. It had been brewed by the wife of the Minister for Magic and administered in front of said Minister, not to mention a certain Harry Potter, which was, in the reliable witness stakes, a difficult combination to top. It couldn't have been tampered with, which was the only way that Remus would have been a danger to anyone tonight. And more wolfsbane would only make him ill, not dangerous.

So this couldn't be about Remus. Not sensibly.

And now that the white glow of the light was strengthening, Tonks could see that the man who was currently terrorising wizarding Britain looked extremely drawn and pale, drawn and pale in a way that Tonks found _extremely_ familiar.

Werewolf. The Monster Master was a _werewolf._

And the moon was about to rise.

Her heart lurched. If he was still holding the wolfsbane, he hadn't drunk it yet. And if he wasn't planning to unleash Remus, what if the plan was to unleash _himself_?

She groped for her wand. She probably wouldn't get more than one shot. No magic, not even an Unforgivable, would work on a transformed werewolf and moonrise could only be minutes away. She had to take him out before he…

But the thought was left standing as, with a casual smirk towards the horizon, the wizarding world's most wanted turned and sauntered back inside out of sight.

And it took only a few moments' more groping to realise that her wand wasn't there. In her hurry to leave the chalet, she'd left it on the dining table.

In hindsight, Tonks would realise that this was the moment when she should have gone for help. She should have hurried back to Bubblins to raise the alarm, to get her wand and send a patronus to Harry. But all she could see in her mind's eyes was four empty beds on the Knight Bus and a figure fleeing down Diagon Alley that she was supposed to have brought down. Help would arrive too late. It was up to her.

Luckily, only the one light had thus far stuttered into life and waddling her way awkwardly across the promenade by the cover of shadows proved no vast chore. The front door still stood open and the way before her was clear. An umbrella stand beside the door provided her with a hefty walking stick that would hopefully prove sufficient to knock a ruthless psychopath unconscious long enough for her to fetch help. She could hear a strange grunting noise from some distant part of the hotel but she chose for the time being to move as silently as she was able down the cracked marble of the hallway towards the glow of light at the rear of the building. A faded series of letters on the wooden panel over the door indicated that the glow was coming from the visitors lounge.

And from within, a hoarse, hard-edged voice drifted into earshot.

"…attacks were warnings. But now I'm ready for people to _understand_. Oh, they say things have changed now, don't they, and the old laws that screwed over me and my kind for all them years have gone. They say, _awww, poor, poor little werewolves_, pat them on the head, give them a biscuit, we can all feel nice and sorry for them now the filthy beasts is _behaving_ themselves!" Tonks hoped it was only in her imagination that the harsh snort carried the echoes of a guttural growl. "But _I don't care_. _Twenty-five years_ they stole from me! Those same smug bastards who stand around all self-righteous now, congratulating themselves on how _progressive_ they are about the _poor, poor little_ _werewolves _are the same smug bastards who cheered them on when they ground us down!" The words were virtually spat out, almost tumbling over each other as they poured out of the unseen lips. "Liars, the lot of them! Two-faced scum! They don't know what it's like to be chased down by a monster! Every werewolf, every one, he knows! He's been there, done that, got the bloody teeth-marks! And do they say, oh gawd, how awful, it weren't your fault though, have a cuppa tea love, we'll look after you! No! For ten years I'd repaired people's Floos, they let me into their homes, no questions, a smile, a cuppa tea, a ginger newt and I'd fix their fire, no hassle, no problems. But when it's a werewolf they're letting through the door, oh no, we can't be having that. Suddenly I ain't good enough no more! What if the filthy bugger's catching? What if he attacks the little darlings or eats the cat? How do we know we can _trust_ him?"

_So. Not just a werewolf, a bitter werewolf too._ _But who's he talking to?_ If he wasn't alone, that meant a whole new set of issues but Tonks could not spare much concentration for mental commentary – it was all she could do to keep her ever treacherous feet from betraying her as she crept closer, treading as quickly as she dared along the passageway. Ahead, the tirade of the angry werewolf was rising to a new intensity.

"But why should I have to prove I could still be trusted, eh? I was the same old Jack I always was! No, it was them that couldn't be trusted, them that turned on _me_, them that didn't understand that what makes a werewolf dangerous is _people_! Stupid, _stupid_ people! If stupid people didn't treat werewolves the way they always have, do you think the likes of Greyback would have turned on them, huh? If they'd taken him aside after he got bit, looked after him, made him feel welcome, you reckon he'd have gone out and turned wild? But no, they treated him like a monster and he lived up to what they wanted, didn't he? And then he took it out and dumped it on the rest of us! Dumped it on me! And cos of stupid, stupid people, I had nowhere to go but back to him in the end, did I? Back to him just in time to be locked up and dragged off to Azkaban! Me, that'd never broken a law in me life! And then the Minister, him that said he'd help the poor werewolves in honour of that sodding dead friend of his, he left me there to _rot_. Left me there for _twenty-five_ bloody years! Scared, he was! Scared of Greyback's name coming up again! He said he'd help, but he knew people were stupid too and he didn't dare mean it until he thought he'd be _safe_."

_Greyback_. Tonks went cold as memories of that awful year swamped her mind once more. So he was one of Greyback's, was he? Was that how Remus had known his face? Had he been one of those blighted, bedraggled souls he'd met on that stupid mission that had pulled them apart?

The odd grunting noise was getting louder, coming, it seemed, from somewhere on the far side of the derelict lounge. Carefully resting herself against the edge of the doorframe with her walking stick still grasped in her hand, Tonks peered through the crack in the half open door into the room beyond. Rotting, threadbare armchairs were scattered across the room, spilling their stuffing onto a distinctly unhealthy looking carpet by the light of an enormous and hotly blazing arched fireplace. A bent coffee table was slumped nearby, scattered with papers - with a cold chill, Tonks recognised a brightly coloured Bubblins map and what looked like a Floo fireplace diagram amongst them. One connection had been circled heavily in red and Tonks was willing to bet she knew which one.

The main Floo hearth at Bubblins reception was only yards from the hall where at that very moment, shockingly bad karaoke was in full swing.

There was a jar of what was clearly Floo Powder sitting on the table beside the papers. And although this Muggle fire would not have been on the network, how much effort would it take for a man who'd mended fires for ten years to hook it up?

Not much, she suspected. And that was a _big_ fireplace.

Oh _Merlin_.

Her vision was restricted by the narrowness of the crack. She could not see the far side of the room. But she could see from the shadows that something large was moving. It was sluggish for now, but Tonks was willing to bet it wouldn't stay that way.

And then finally, she looked at the Monster Master.

He was apparently alone after all in spite of his diatribe, kneeling beside the fire and staring into the flames as shadow and light played across his pale features in a grim dance. In one hand, he gripped the open bottle of wolfsbane. In the other, he held a small, transparent sphere in which odd snakes of colour wound in ever-changing rainbow patterns, jumping at the crack of the fire and the harsh, angry breathing of the man who grasped it. Tonks recognised it at once. Sonic Spheres had recently been invented as a more wizardly way of recording and listening to music, although Harry had taken to using them to record interviews of suspects for use as evidence. He believed and Tonks agreed that hearing the accused's own words was more effective before the Wizengamot than a transcribed statement from a magical Recording Quill.

The Monster Master was recording his rant. He was _explaining_ himself.

And then the colours began to dance once more as the angry words resumed.

"Now, you're likely sat listening to this thinking; barking old werewolf, ungrateful sod, monster in his brain, we should never have given them no rights back at all! I know how you buggers think!" The narrow face contorted violently. "But listen to this!" The wolfsbane bottle swung violently to his lips as he flung his head back - there was a frantic glugging sound, a harsh swallow and then a glassy clunk as he tossed it over his shoulder. The now blessedly empty wolfsbane bottle bounced off an armchair, hit the carpet with a loud _tink_ and rolled slowly into the hall to come to a gentle halt against Tonks' foot. Aware of its tripping potential, she nudged it quietly aside.

"Do you hear that?" The Monster Master's face contorted as he glared violently down at the inoffensive glass sphere grasped in his hands. "I drink my wolfsbane! Cos it ain't no monster trying to get his own back on you bastards! It's a man! A human man who thinks for himself and had twenty five years in jail he didn't deserve to think good and hard about how to show you all what real dangerous beasts are when he got out! Ain't nobody going to get hurt by me on a full moon night! I'll be off and safe and killing no one. It's the _real_ monsters that you'll have had to worry about! The real dangerous beasts! You all say you've changed, clasp your hands all pious like and try to help us. But you still don't think we're _people_, not really, not deep down. You lump us in with all the savage monsters of the world, sending us to the Beast Division, putting us in books like _Fantastic Beasts_ like we ain't just humans at all. Well, I ain't never going to be able to forgive that. But I will make sure you all _see the difference_ when the _real thing_ comes rushing for your stupid little darlings and eats your bloody cat. It ain't Greyback who made a monster out of me. It's the _human race_." He leaned his face closer to the sphere and Tonks saw the savage red shape in the glass that accompanied the cruel smirk. "Enjoy," he hissed softly.

He tapped the side of the sphere. The rainbow colours congealed and froze into a ball at the centre. The recording was over. The Monster Master placed it carefully down on the table with his papers for a moment before he whisked the lot into a metal box he pulled from under the table. With a shove, he pushed it back under this nominal protection, his eyes drifting over the unseen but threatening shadows on the far side of the room. There was another bad-tempered grunt.

"Oh pipe down your whining." The reprimand was almost affectionate. "The drug'll wear off in a minute and then you'll be trampling bastards to your heart's content once I put you back in that Floo. Trust me, it'll be better than walloping mountain trolls in Slovenia any da… _Aah_!"

The spasm that crossed his face was alarmingly familiar. Tonks knew the signs as well as he did. There was probably less than a half a minute now.

_It's rising_…

And so was he, stiff and awkward, his teeth gritted as he reached for the Floo powder. Tonks knew that any second the change would rip in and although, since she had no wand, his immunity to magic would make little difference, she would prefer to face a rangy man in his fifties than a transformed werewolf any day. She had to act and act quickly.

An unknown beast and a transforming werewolf lay before her. She was wandless and pregnant and nobody knew she was here.

But it didn't change the facts. He had to be stopped. Even something as terrible as Bubblins karaoke night didn't deserve _this_.

He was moving towards the fire now, dipping his fingers into the Floo powder. She couldn't let him open a connection, she just _couldn't_.

His back was turned to her. It was the only chance she was going to get.

And so, grasping the walking stick firmly in both hands, Tonks girded her tired and reluctant body and hurled herself forwards.

Her swing was a thing of beauty; any professional golfer would have sighed in desperate envy. The stick's curved handle smashed into the Monster Master's arm and sent the jar of Floo powder hurtling out of his grasp to shatter with an explosion of grey against the peeling wallpaper. A hagged, shocked face half turned towards her but the element of surprise and the power of adrenalin were still on her side – her second blow caught him emphatically around the side of the head and sent him sprawling to the ground with a thud. Stunned and shaking his head, he roared with anger and started to rise but a sudden spasm rocked his features and drove him back to the carpet. His skin rippled and contorted as grey tufts of matted fur erupted began to erupt from across his skin. His eyes turned gold as he screamed, his voice tailing away into a wild and blood-curdling howl.

Her third blow caught him sharply across the half-formed muzzle. The fourth smacked into his skull, glazing the golden eyes and silencing his growling.

It wasn't Remus. There was no love lost here and Tonks had seen it all before. He needed to be downed and after the last few months, she wasn't about to be delicate.

For a moment, she could only stand, gasping, walking stick grasped in her hands as she stared down at the unconscious and now fully transformed werewolf laid out before her. She'd got him. She'd done it. She'd actually…

It was no longer a grunt. It was a bellow. And it was _very_ close.

A huge greyish-purple shape loomed in her peripheral vision. There was a distinct edge of _sharpness _about it.

She looked up. And wished she hadn't. Being eyeballed by a clearly infuriated and distinctly no-longer-doped-up graphorn at close range was not a pleasant experience.

It lowered its head. A four thumped foot scraped nastily against the carpet.

Tonks did at that point what any sensible person in her position would do. She turned on her heel and bolted for the door.

_It's too narrow for a beast that big, he must have brought it through the fireplace, it'll never get out of there to_…

SMASH!

Bugger.

The building literally _shook_ as a graphorn shaped hole was gouged out of the wall surrounding the door frame, sending timbers and plasterboard crashing down into the marble corridor ahead of her. Although Tonks was certain that such a barrier would in no way impede a massive and angry mountain beast, they definitely got in the way of a small, pregnant Auror armed with nothing but a walking stick.

And given that fallen timbers were blocking one end of the corridor and a graphorn was blocking the other, there really was no choice left but the stone staircase that wound away up to her left.

She hurled the stick at the graphorn for the spirit of the thing, almost wrenching her arm in the process but she wasn't at all surprised when twin horns hefted it violently and sent it spinning to smash against the battered ceiling. But the distraction gave her a brief head start as she hurled herself up the stairs, scrambling almost on all fours as heavy footsteps echoed on the marble below her. Bugger again, it was still following her…

_And why not? It's a ruddy mountain beast. Stairs aren't going to worry it, idiot!_

And indeed, four thumbed feet were making short work of the climb, shorter work than the clumsy limbs of the ungainly figure it was pursuing. The occasional narrow corner impeded its progress marginally but the crunch and thud and shake of the building implied they weren't putting up too much of a barrier.

Her feet skidded against the dirty floor, her hands scrabbled for purchase; she could hear her own breathing rasping in her ears, her heartbeat drumming.

Or was it two heartbeats?

_I've got to get away. I have got to get away. For her. For Remus and Teddy and her_.

_For my family_.

Some thoughtful and considerate soul had locked the fire doors at every level, rusty padlocks that probably wouldn't have lasted more than a few seconds under a good assault but a few seconds would be too long. If she got out of the situation alive, Tonks fully intended to track down the bastard that had put them there and kick them well into the next century.

And so she climbed and climbed and climbed, treacherous marble sliding and sending her reeling as the building shook and shuddered from the efforts of the graphorn to follow her. Who knew the blasted things were so persistent?

Ahead, the stairs petered out onto a landing. A small ladder hung down into an open space. With a hitherto unimaginable agility, Tonks reached the foot of it in a flying leap, narrowly avoiding the whistling swipe of twin horns past her foot as she scrambled the last few feet into the dark attic and slammed the trapdoor shut behind her.

Moonlight poured in through a misty, cracked window. The light was poor, but it told her enough. There was no other door.

Below her, the floor trembled. The graphorn roared.

She was trapped.

TO BE CONTINUED


	5. Ill Met By Moonlight Part Two

**A/N:** And here's the second part in my latest Portalverse adventure…:)

**Ill Met By Moonlight by Jess Pallas**

**Part Two**

Remus Lupin stared out at the world. And the world looked different.

For a start, it was _higher_. In spite of the bulk of a werewolf, there was no denying that life on all fours gave one a somewhat lower perspective on the world that the upright gait of a human, a drop in angle that gave otherwise familiar sights a strangely _alien_ feel. The feel of the coloured paving of the promenade under the pads of his paws was very different to the tread of his shoed feet, the sound of the sea in the night air sharper somehow.

And the smells…

They were familiar, the tang of the salty water, the scent of the sand, the stink of dropped rubbish, but at the same time they were different. Richer.

Vivid.

Smelling the world through a werewolf's nose was like difference between visiting a place and seeing it in a postcard. A human nose gave you the basic idea but a wolf's nose made it an _experience_…

And there was so much more to it than passing humans every realised. The fading passage of long gone feet, the drifting hint of spent emotions, the history of a day in the life still scattered out in front of him, so many scents to which he was unable to even put a name and wouldn't even dare to try and untangle…

But he was drifting again. He was here for a reason. He needed to _concentrate_.

Movement was becoming easier. While moving as a human came naturally to Remus and moving as wolf came naturally to his full moon alter ego, Remus's human mind was not particularly talented at manipulating four legs and a furry tail. After all, since the onset of the wolfsbane potion, there hadn't exactly been much he'd wanted to do in his wolf form apart from bolt down a sandwich, fall asleep or nudge over a page with his nose. His little excursion onto the promenade by night was the first time he'd ever ventured outdoors as a werewolf using his own mind to do the steering. Aside from anything else, it was strictly against Kingsley's entirely reasonable new rules.

_Sweet Merlin. If I get caught, Harry and Kingsley will have my hide._

But what else was he supposed to do? He could hardly head down to reception and bark for assistance in locating his absent wife.

It had only been a couple of hours since she'd left. But it was late, and she'd been tired and she'd promised to come back after moonset to make sure he wasn't tearing the chalet to bits…

She wouldn't break a promise like that. She just wouldn't.

Harry would call him paranoid. Dora, who was probably sat quietly on a bench somewhere enjoying the moonlight, was likely to whack him soundly with whatever object first came to hand for being so damned stupid. But Remus knew he would take whatever punishment was doled out, domestic or official, just to be certain that his wife and unborn daughter were safe and sound.

Perhaps he should have waited longer. But he'd listened and listened for the creak of the door, for the one scent in a myriad of confusing odours that he could have picked out from his grave, for a low voice, just checking he wasn't ripping himself to pieces. He'd waited and waited and waited. And finally, when the worry had outweighed the sensible corner of Remus's head that was saying he should hardly go wandering about in the open transformed, he'd pulled down the key he'd hidden on a nearby shelf, awkwardly fitted it into the lock in the door with his teeth and let himself out. And then he'd seen her wand sitting on the table and the last of his doubts had disappeared. He'd grabbed it off the table and clawed open the door.

Her scent hadn't been hard to find. It coated the cabin from end to end. And then he'd picked up the freshest of her odours from amongst the horde of smells and, ignoring the terrible discordant wailing coming from the Bubblins karaoke contest, he'd slipped out into the darkness and made off in the direction of the sea front.

If anyone saw him, the trouble he would get into didn't bear thinking about. But some things were more important.

She'd travelled along the sea front. Inexperienced as Remus was in the art of scent recognition, he'd quickly got the hang of Dora's and he recognised the slightly tense twang that her odour tended to develop on full moon nights, compared to the fuller, more relaxed scent of their earlier stroll that he'd picked up traces of nearby. But he wasn't scared and she wasn't nervous, she was just wandering along and…

Shock.

It was like a nasal explosion. Remus ground to a standstill as he rolled up beside the closed snack kiosk, snuffling at the paving and the wall beside it in a manner that his human brain couldn't help but absently reflect was distinctly unhygienic. But there was no denying the scent had changed, strengthened, gained potency… Something had happened here, something had…

CRASH!

The sound pierced the air and walloped against his sensitive ears, drawing his gaze at once to the run down old hotel on the promenade's far side. A dull, musky, distant scent drifted over to his sensitive nose, something that made him think of mountains and, oddly enough, the Hogwarts potions classroom. And there was something else too, something dark and harsh and primally familiar…

_Dark woods and rocky hideaways, thickets and brambles beneath the light of a burning full moon. Fur and teeth and a howl on the breeze_…

His golden eyes stared into the shadows of the hotel doorway. Two golden eyes stared back.

_I know him_.

Even as Remus's human brain struggled to acknowledge the shock of seeing another werewolf, deep inside, the instinctive corner beaten down but never destroyed by the wolfsbane was _screaming_ at him. His mind flashed back almost against his will to the awful months with Greyback, to untamed, unpleasant transformations and a sea of ragged, hopeless faces living from one day to the next because they didn't know what else to do. He'd talked to them, lived with them, struggled alongside them, seen them at their weakest and their strongest alike and on those full moon nights, they had been a mass of scents, a pack known one from the other not by their faces, but by their _smell_…

He'd been a new arrival, a recent recruit who'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time when Greyback had needed a Floo. He remembered the first time he'd smelled his scent, his first transformation with the pack. And in the morning, he remembered a narrow faced, angry man curled in a blanket as he bit the figurative head of anyone and anything for the turn his life had taken…

Narrow face. Greying hair. Bitter eyes.

_St Mungo's. The man in St Mungo's. The _Monster Master.

_Bartolph. His name is_ Jack Bartolph.

_And he's here. And he's staring at me. And if Dora saw him, before he transformed, if she recognised his face_…

He sniffed the air once more, enough to leave him in no doubt. His wife's scent was headed straight towards the hotel where Bartolph stood watching him.

It was only then that Remus realised he was growling. His wife's wand dropped to the floor with a clatter.

_If he's touched her_…

He needed to find his wife. He knew that. But right here in front of him, the werewolf form of a man who'd taken four innocent lives was staring at him with eyes far too knowing not to have a human mind behind them.

The wind was blowing off the shore. He could smell Bartolph but he could bet Bartolph couldn't smell him. He had no idea who he was facing.

And he could catch him. Here and now. An even Quidditch field, two human-minded werewolves…

He tensed himself for the charge, to spring forwards, to leap, as best he could and bring the other werewolf down…

CRASH!

The window frames of the derelict hotel gave a noticeable shudder. Dust cascaded down in a spiral by the light of the stuttering lantern. And then, Remus heard the smashing of a pane of glass.

He looked up sharply just in time to see a pale and very familiar head appear out of the upstairs window. Her eyes fixed upon him and froze.

Dora.

She looked in tact. A little dusty perhaps and very tired, but she seemed whole enough and the expression on her face when she laid eyes on him was enough to tell him that his wife knew all about Jack Bartolph's condition.

_Oh Merlin. Does she think I'm him?_

_Stay there. Just stay there. I'll deal with Bartolph and then I'll come and_…

It was inevitable. He should have known but yet somehow, it still came as a grim kind of shock.

His five months pregnant wife was climbing out of the window.

_Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no_…

_Don't you dare. Nymphadora Tonks, don't you _dare,_ you can't climb out of that window, you _know_ what'll happen_…

But she was. Her movements were awkward, made cumbersome by the jut of her belly but nonetheless, a foot was edging uncertainly out onto the distinctly crooked looking roof tiles as her fingers scrambled for purchase on the rotten wooden window frame. She was actually trying to leave that way. She knew there was a werewolf out here and the potential for a truly catastrophic fall and yet still she…

A shuddering crash shook the old building once more. Sweet Merlin, what was in there that was so much worse than the sheer potential for disaster involved in climbing out?

From the doorway, Bartolph was still staring at him. For the first time, Remus noticed that the other werewolf was bloodied and looking more than a little dazed.

But that was the least of his concerns.

_If she falls… and she will fall, she's Dora, she wouldn't be Dora if she didn't_… _A softer place to land. I need to find her a softer place to land_…

Frantically, he searched the darkness. He had Dora's wand of course, hurriedly snatched back up, but he had no idea if magic casting was even possible in werewolf form. He needed something soft, like cushions or a mattress, but even by emptying the nearby guesthouses, just how many cushions and mattresses would he need to soften a five story fall? He could hardly stretch out a sheet single-hand… single-_pawed_ and fetching help of any description was bound to come too late, if anyone could even be found stupid enough to follow a frantic looking werewolf. But what else was there here that he could possibly…

His eyes fell upon the children's play area. Upon the dark slide and the still swings.

Upon the _trampoline_…

Involving Dora with a trampoline was ninety percent likely to end in tears. But it was the best he was going to get.

His eyes flashed to Bartolph. If he tried to interfere…

But the doorway was empty. The other werewolf was gone.

_Damn!_

But there was no time for that now. His wife and daughter were more important.

Fortunately the play area was not gated but the trampoline had been locked in place with sturdy looking chains. Remus eyeballed them with profound frustration.

_Well. This is as good a time as any to find out if a human minded werewolf can do magic_…

Jostling Dora's wand awkwardly in his teeth, Remus aimed it crookedly at the padlock the held the cluster of chains in place. And then, screwing up his eyes, he concentrated with every fibre of his soul.

_Alohamora! Alohamora! Alohamora! Aloha-bloody-mora! Come on, please! Alohamora! ALOHAMORA!_

It was barely a spark. A stuttering half-glint of a thing. But on a rusty old Muggle padlock, it was just enough.

The lock clicked and fell open.

_Yes! YES!_

The metal rim was cold and hard within his teeth, but Remus honestly didn't care. Dragging the awkward frame with all his might, he grimly began to pull.

* * *

_Remus. It's Remus_.

She hadn't been sure. Not really. Not until she'd slipped her first tentative, exploratory foot out of the window and had seen the look that had crossed the lupine face upturned below. Human or wolf, only Remus Lupin could glare at her quite like _that_. She could almost hear the inaudible scolding written large in those golden eyes. He _hated _it when she put herself in danger.

Normally she'd call him an overprotective prat and insist she could take care of herself. But on this occasion, she had to concede that he probably had something of a point.

_Mind you, what the bloody hell is he doing out here anyway? The trouble he might get into_! _Remus Lupin, you hypocrite!_

Tiles skidded and scrambled beneath her feet. Splinters of woodworm riddle wood dug into her fingernails. Worrying about the trouble Remus might get into was far better than pondering the trouble she was _already in_.

But wait a minute. Where was he going? What was he doing in the children's play…

Oh no.

It was better than the alternative. She had to admit that. But a _trampoline_?

Dragging it was proving no easy task for her lupine husband, the metal rim grasped within his teeth as he hauled it rather noisily across the paving stones. She could see light flickering on in the neighbouring guest house windows.

_Hello police? Yes, there's a big grey dog stealing a trampoline_…

_Harry is going to kill us._ Again…

The building shuddered profoundly. Tonks could see an enormous grey head trying to force its way up through the crumbling floorboards.

Well, it was the trampoline or the graphorn. Tonks was fairly certain no such choice had ever had to be made in the history of the world before.

And the baby…

_Why did I get myself into this? Why am I so bloody stupid?_

_Hold on, my little girl. I'm so sorry about the rough ride._

Remus was almost in position now, straining madly as he pulled the trampoline into place with all his might. By the light of the lamp, Tonks could now see that the play equipment was not the only thing he was carrying.

_Is that_ my _wand? If he's put tooth marks in it, I swear_…

But there was no more time. The building was shaking madly now under the force of the graphorn's repeated assaults. It was unlikely to survive much longer.

And neither would she if she didn't…

Let go.

Her fingers parted. Her feet gave way. Eyes to the stars and back to the earth, Nymphadora Tonks was falling.

The night sky rushed away. Something seemed to enfold her, soften her fall, slow her descent, but Remus was a werewolf now, _surely_ he couldn't have…

She hit the trampoline. The stars rushed back at her again.

But the bounce was minimal, softened by the strange, slowing force that had caught her. After a mere couple of ricochets, the material caught her and rippled to stillness.

For a moment, Tonks could only lie there, staring in shock up at the crumbling frontage, the lamplight and the mass of stars. But then suddenly her peaceful resting place gave a shudder as a grey, four legged shape leapt onto the sheet of material and stumbled almost comically to her side.

A rough haired muzzle nudged at her face, her wand grasped within sharp, vicious teeth. Golden eyes stared down in obvious concern.

And it was Remus.

It didn't matter that the grey, sharp-toothed face just inches from hers was the stuff of many people's nightmares. It didn't matter than the eyes were not the warm, familiar brown that she so loved. He was there in the anxious twitch of wolfish brows, in a frown so familiar as to be disconcerting, in the turn of his head and the fear and love in his eyes. He was there.

It didn't matter what he looked like. He'd said it often enough to her – no matter what she looked like, she would always know her. And now she knew that she felt just the same.

Echoing crashes sounded above. A piece of masonry hit the edge of the trampoline with a worrying clang.

A furry head butted sharply against her shoulder. Tonks couldn't help but feel it had a point.

"I'm moving, I'm moving!"

Making good headway on the springy surface was no mean feat, but spurred on by the clatter of the collapsing hotel, Tonks made it off the side of the trampoline in fairly short order. With her lupine husband at her side, she bolted across the promenade and into the shadow of the snack kiosk.

They were only just in time.

With a series of crashes that were almost sigh-like, dust and rubble expelled itself through three floors worth of windows. The roof sagged. The boards tumbled. And somewhere deep inside, the graphorn gave a long and echoing scream. Its weight had finally outweighed the strength of the fragile floorboards.

_Poor thing. It wasn't its fault that nutter werewolf dragged it into this, Even if it did try to stomp me_…

A cold chill lodged in her chest. Had he woken before the building tumbled? Had the Monster Master escaped or been crushed as well?

A part of her whispered it would serve him right. Another part of her swam with guilt.

Tonks ducked back into the shadow of the kiosk and knelt gently beside her husband. Remus still had her wand clamped between his jaws.

"You cushioned my fall." The words slipped out. "With _my_ wand. As a _wolf_. Remus, that's bloody _amazing_."

His head twitched and ducked in that daft modest way it always did when someone was giving him some kind of compliment. A cold nose nuzzled against her skin.

_Are you okay?_ She could almost hear the unspoken question that lingered in his eyes and motions. _Are you both okay?_

She rested her hand against her belly. An indignant little wriggle indicated that her passenger had not enjoyed the ride but was very much still awake to acknowledge it.

_Oh, the adventures you've had before you've even seen the light, my little girl_…

"I'm okay," she whispered softly, her other hand reaching up to touch the wiry muzzle. "I think we _both _are. Oh, _Remus_."

Unthinkingly, her hands whipped out and wrapped around the furry neck. She felt him half start back in shock but he didn't pull away from the embrace.

_I bet there aren't many people who can say they've hugged a transformed werewolf_… _Mind you_…

"You know," she said, quietly but with a distinct of cheek. "It doesn't matter what form you're in. You still have bony shoulders, Remus Lupin."

A cold nose plunged into her ear in retort. She topped onto her backside with a thud and laughed.

"Prat!" The swipe caught his nose. "I should be so angry with you! What if you'd got seen out and about, hmm?"

The look that Remus offered in return was a quiet eloquent, if silent, tirade on the matter of her being one to talk under the circumstances. The prod at her pregnant belly was pointed and reproachful.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm a bloody idiot." Tonks sighed. "But I can explain…"

Her voice tailed off. The look in his eyes was enough.

"You saw him. You know he's the Monster Master?" A nod. "Did you recognise him? He mentioned Greyback…" Another nod, this one solid. "Did he get out?" Another emphatic nod. Tonks was always glancing into the shadows as she pulled herself awkwardly to her feet. "He may still be around. We need to…"

This time it was a shake. Remus showed his muzzled against her hand, pushing the wand into it but the expression on those wolfish features was not that of a man hoping to join his wife on a werewolf hunting expedition. With a jerk of his head, he gestured towards the nearby houses.

All along the promenade, lights were flickering into life. Pyjama clad Muggles were beginning to appear in doorways. In the distance, the blue lights of Muggle law enforcement vehicles moved steadily in their direction.

Oh boy. A derelict hotel collapsing was one thing for Muggles to deal with. Finding the mangled corpse of a freakish rhino in the remains would be quite another.

Tonks lifted her wand. "Harry?"

The nod was emphatic once more. Harry.

Rubbing one hand against her husband's wiry head, Tonks raised her wand. A moment later, his luminescent twin galloped away into the night.

* * *

Harry had been cross. Teddy had been crosser.

But disaster at Bubblins had been averted. Lives, if not eardrums, had almost certainly been saved. Annoyed as Harry had been with both his former teacher for venturing out on a full moon night and his workmate for going after wizarding Britain's most wanted alone, unarmed and pregnant, he had given them both their due for that.

Bartolph, alas, had not been caught. As the clean up at the hotel had got under way in liaison with the bewildered but compliant local police force, Remus had discreetly followed his scent with Harry for the remainder of the full moon night. But Bartolph had found a wizarding house with a fireplace and a dog flap. Spilled Floo powder had told its own story. And so Harry had walked them both back to the chalet so Remus could change back, helped them pack and sent them to St Mungo's with emphatic orders to go straight home afterwards and _bloody well_ stay out of trouble. He wasn't, he informed them pointedly, going to ask them _again_.

The hospital had declared all three of them to be fine. And so they had headed home to catch up on some sleep.

Neither Remus nor Tonks had bothered to admonish the other for their actions on the full moon night. They had simply come to a silent agreement that both had been as bad as the other and let it go at that. Teddy's lecture once they had woken the following afternoon, however, had lasted a good half an hour longer than Harry's had. There had been gestures. He had crossed his arms. He had scolded them about how much they meant to him and what it would do to him to lose them again. Tonks loved her son dearly, but since she had never really known him until he was fully grown, there were disconcerting moments when it was hard to tell exactly who the parent in their relationship was. Although it galled her to admit it, she was honest enough to concede that there was enough of Remus in Teddy to mean that he was more often than not a great deal more mature than she was.

But there was enough of her in her son to mean he rarely stayed cross for long. Once the lecture was done, he made them dinner.

"Aren't you going to have any ice cream on that?"

Tonks glared at her husband over the top of her chicken casserole. "It's a _craving_," she told him firmly. "As you well know."

Teddy grinned as his hair dyed itself into three distinct stripes of brown, white and pink. He had been brought up to speed on his mother's sticky antics. "From what dad's said, I've always though Neopolita Lupin would be a lovely name for a girl. Though I do hope my new sister won't be _cold _to me…"

"You're both gits." Tonks tucked into her casserole pointedly as she rubbed her tummy with her free hand. "I can't wait for my little girl to come along so I'm not outnumbered by a family of rotten sods anymore."

Remus smiled. "At least we know she's durable, like her mother. She's had an exciting ride with you so far."

Tonks cocked an eyebrow at him. "And I think she may have inherited your bony shoulders. She's been prodding me with something that sharp all afternoon." She grinned slightly. "The bony shoulders of Remus Lupin, capable of transcending even a werewolf transformation. They're just as sharp no matter what form you hug him in."

Teddy's eyes snapped up. He blinked. "You _hugged_ a werewolf?" he exclaimed. But then his eyes widened as he stared at his father in horror. "Dad… I… Sorry! I'm sorry!" he scrambled desperately, dropping his fork in his haste to raise his hands. "I didn't mean it like…"

"I _know_ you didn't." Remus cut in to halt their son's guilt before it could gather a head of steam. "Don't worry, it's fine." He smiled slightly. "It came as somewhat of a surprise to me too, it has to be said."

Tonks couldn't help but smile. "I couldn't help myself. You were sat there all furry and lupine but you were still so… well… _you_. The way you moved your head, your frown, those looks you gave me…" She sighed slightly as she looked up and met her husband's eyes. "I've always said I don't care what you are just like you've always said you don't care what face I'm using. But you on wolfsbane – it's just Remus Lupin in a big fur coat. And once I realised that, it didn't matter what you looked like. You were just so completely yourself." She chuckled quietly. "Even with those shoulders, what girl could resist hugging that?"

Remus actually laughed. "Most of them as it happens. Until I met you."

She reached across and shoved his shoulder lightly. "Good thing you met me then."

"I'm quite grateful," Teddy chipped in cheerfully.

As Tonks joined in with the laughter of husband and son, she felt a bony little prod against her belly. She smiled.

Perhaps the Monster Master was still at large. Perhaps she could have done more to capture him. But all that mattered in the here and now was the safety of her baby and the laughter of her family.

There wasn't much more she could want from life than that.

THE END

**A/N**: And that's it, for the time being. If time and mood or LJ challenge takes me, I'll continue with more oneshots and resolve the Monster Master story and the new little Lupin but for now, that's all I have, I'm afraid. I'm trying to concentrate on my original writing and the novel I hope one day to find a publisher for at the moment which doesn't leave much time for fic but if I do get a chance to do more, I'll let you know. :)


	6. Strange New World Part One

**Author's Notes: **Where to begin. This two part story is the final part of my trio of my post A Little More Time stories nicknamed The Monster Master arc and as it stands is riddled with references to my previous fics and, I will admit, may not entirely make sense without having read them. It contains reference to _A Little More Time, Family Ties, Counting Legs_ and Ill _Met By Moonlight_ in the Portalverse and also pulls in my 2007 Christmas one-shot _To Believe_ in passing, as well as _For Want of Silken Thread_, my canon compliant version of the flashback section of _Oblivious_. Blimey. I think my back referencing got a bit carried away… All but FWOST can be found on my FFN profile and I'll rectify the latter when I get the chance to change its editing format from the version used at The Sugar Quill.

_**Strange New World by Jess Pallas**_

_**Part One**_

Ah, Christmas.

The shops were ablaze, colour changing tinsel and flickering jars of rainbow fireflies competing with curling strands of magical mistletoe and glistening holly to make a more festive show for the discerning wizarding shopper. In each window was a fresh surprise, a brighter sparkle, a gaudier light and scattered in amongst them all, the familiar and slightly moving sight of Twilley's everlasting, multicoloured icicles, once a symbol of hope in a dark and half-crushed Christmas, now twenty-five years on, a marker of light and victory, of peace on Earth and good will to all men.

It always warmed Remus' heart to see them.

Diagon Alley was heaving. But that was no real surprise. After all, there was only a fortnight's shopping time left until Christmas and the entire population of wizarding Britain to cram into a village in Scotland and a London back alley. Was it any wonder things were a little busy?

In a way, Remus reflected to himself in thoughts that he would never had dared to allow passed his lips, it was kind of fortunate. At least the sheer crush of people was enough to prevent his wife's combination of two left feet and a jutting eight and three quarter month's worth of pregnancy belly resulting in an ungainly splat onto the snowy cobbles. There simply wasn't _room_ for her to fall over.

Unlike at Hogsmeade. And outside her mother's house. And outside their house. Twice.

Remus was certain that things hadn't been this bad with Teddy. But then again, he mused, still in prudent silence, his darling, clumsy Dora had not been at her most ungainly during coldest, slipperiest, most treacherous underfoot time of the year, during one of the coldest, iciest, most treacherous underfoot Decembers' of the decade. Her constant slip-sliding had not done much for his nerves over the last month and his constant insistence on summoning Victoire to check her over after every stumble had not done much for her patience. Dora had, quite reasonably he was forced to admit, pointed out on several occasions, that if their soon to be little girl could handle the five storey tumble onto a trampoline that she had taken in August during the Monster Master debacle, a small splat against icy cobbles was more likely to damage her mother's backside that her unborn daughter. But Remus was taking no chances. Not with his wife and not with his child. Not again.

If he was honest, he hadn't even been in favour of this expedition into the cold. With Dora now officially signed off from the Ministry, he'd been hoping to keep her warm and safely seated by the fireplace in their cosy cottage in the Welsh mountains until the baby finally came. But a combination of a realisation that they had not paid their now annual visit to Twilley's apothecary and a sudden attack of insecurity regarding the quality and quantity of Christmas gifts obtained for her nearest and dearest had led Dora to suggest a final trip to Diagon Alley over breakfast. Remus had been less than keen – the potential for disaster was epic – and had started to make excuses about the need to help out with the final Hogsmeade weekend but when Teddy had innocently offered to take his place so he could join Mum, his fate had been sealed.

But Remus was honest enough to admit that it wasn't just the slipping possibilities that had him on edge. He'd been aware for several days now of an odd discomfort, almost like an itch whenever he left his home behind to head to work. He'd assumed it was because of leaving his heavily pregnant wife alone in the house – even though with the quantity of Weasley, Potter and Auror related visitors she had, not to mention her mother's daily check in, she was rarely alone for more than a few minutes a day – but the feeling had stayed with him that morning as they'd stepped into the Floo, a tickle, a whisper, almost as though someone unseen was staring at the back of his neck…

He shuddered slightly as he almost instinctively glanced round. And there was the pack of people, ruddy, scarf wrapped laughing faces, all warm, all friendly, all…

Bartolph.

_It's not him_.

His brain kicked in sharply with the reassurance, the way it did every time one of the too-familiar wanted posters caught his eye. They had been everywhere since August, splattered on every outpost of wizarding Britain; Jack Bartolph's thin, harsh picture, taken from his record at the Werewolf Registry, his name printed in bold letters over his scowling features alongside the words _dangerous_ and _at large_. It didn't seem to matter that he hadn't been heard of since his confrontation with Dora when he'd tried and fortunately failed to release an angry graphorn into the middle of Bubblins Wizarding Holiday Camp. The angry explanatory rant he'd recorded had been played on the WWN and transcribed in the _Prophet_ and the _Crucible_ and there had been an inevitable if mercifully brief werewolf backlash as a result. But Harry and Kingsley had made bold speeches about how the actions of one rogue should not prejudice the many and the fact that Bartolph had gone emphatically to ground since being unmasked had meant that things had calmed down with unprecedented swiftness. There had been no further Monster Master attacks and, although it was hard to confirm because Bartolph was an experienced Floo engineer and well capable of covering his tracks, it was believed he had left the country and was now hiding out somewhere in Albania or Greece. It was good riddance as far as Remus was concerned. Although an old, long-buried part of him could respect some of his points, his methods were beyond unacceptable. Killing four innocent people was no way to protest werewolf mistreatments that were mostly in the past.

The poster scowled at him before vanishing once more behind a sea of brightly coloured pointy hats. Remus shook his head and turned away.

But he shouldn't be getting so distracted and worked up. He was Christmas shopping with his wife in Diagon Alley. It was supposed to be _fun_.

Probably.

He glanced fondly at Dora. She was propped up outside the window of Twilley's, sorting through her purchases and was fully occupied in making faces at David Twilley's grandchildren as they helped their grandfather to hang up the Twilley's patented and ever popular multicoloured everlasting icicles in the window of the shop he had taken over from his father a couple of years before. Cecil Twilley, the Muggleborn founder of the shop had insisted that, as the inspiration behind his now famous Christmas icicles, the Lupins would always be entitled to as many as they wanted free of charge and Dora always enjoyed coming to collect them as an excuse for a natter with the friendly family. She was especially fond of the rainbow striped ones that were brewed especially for her.

Remus shook his head. Why hadn't he been able to shake the feeling this was a bad idea? It was so lovely to see her so animated when she'd been so grouchy about being heavy and unwieldy for several weeks now…

"Still feeling twitchy?"

Remus started and grinned rather sheepishly as he fell under Dora's amusedly pointed look. She had not turned but had raised an eyebrow as she stared at his frosty reflection. Carefully he leaned forward and rested his chin against the top of her head, admiring their joined faces in the glassy mirror.

"A bit," he admitted honestly. "I'm not even sure why. Though my constant fears for your footing aren't helping."

He had to admit he probably deserved the small sharp elbow that bounced off his ribs.

"Cheek!" was the reply. "I haven't stumbled once so far today, thank you. And it's not _my_ fault. I can hardly help it if our little unnamed blighter down here is throwing my balance off."

Remus gave an innocent glance skywards. "So you've been pregnant since you were a toddler then?"

Dark eyes tilted sharply upwards. "Don't make me come up there, Lupin. You wouldn't like it."

"I don't know." Remus rubbed his ribs rather pointedly. "I must be something of a masochist or I wouldn't have married you in the first place."

Ignoring the adorable indignation with which her mouth popped open, he planted a kiss on the top of the fuzzy white hat that nestled atop her festive mass of red and green curls and stepped hurriedly out of range. Fortunately his reflexes were impressive enough that he caught both the sliding box of icicles and his wife's arm before either of them hit the icy floor.

"You were saying?" he remarked with a quirk of his lips.

Dora fixed him with a mock glare. "That one was your fault."

"If you say so, dearest."

"I do say so. As punishment, you will take my arm. Not that I need the support."

"Of course not." Biting back a smile, Remus curled his arm carefully back around his wife's. "Did you want your box back?"

"Straining yourself, are you?" Dora grinned up at him, resting her head on his shoulder so that the bobble on her fuzzy hat ticked his neck.

"Not the icicles, no." Remus stared innocently up at the flickering cluster of fairy lights, dangling from the waists of conjured fairies as they fluttered overhead. "But the two boxes of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, the broomstick polish, the stuffed hippogriff, the four potion bottles, the spare cauldron and the six books from Flourish and Blotts are starting to chaff a bit." He gestured pointedly down to the small satchel slung over his other shoulder into which he had stowed the miniaturised contents of their shopping trip thus far. Dora raised a cynical eyebrow.

"Poor, poor baby," she remarked, in a voice rich with faux sympathy. "Your shoulder must almost be getting some small hint of _pressure_ there. It must be a terrible burden, so much worse than carrying seven or eight pounds of small child under your midriff…"

Remus was halfway through preparing a suitable retort but before he got the chance, a slender but familiar figure bumped against him. Angelina Weasley beamed at her former teacher and his wife as she brushed lingering hints of snow off her robes.

"Hello Remus, hello Tonks!" she greeted cheerfully. "Last bit of shopping?"

"Just a bit." Remus gestured to the unimpressive satchel and the more impressive box of icicles. "Dora isn't going to be happy unless we've got everyone in the world at least six gifts."

"Don't be mean on me for being a generous soul." Dora's expression was lofty as Angelina laughed.

"It sounds reasonable enough to me," she exclaimed. "I thought I'd finished mine but then I got a distress call from Roxanne saying all the dresses in Hogsmeade make her look like a blancmange or a trifle and if she didn't get a decent dress for the Yule Ball, it would officially be the end of her universe. So I thought I'd nip up the street to Madam Malkin's and see if she can do any better. My daughter is a cheery, happy soul with a wonderful sense of humour but when it comes to looking good for Leo Shacklebolt, she is the most serious person _in the world_." She shook her head rather wistfully. "Oh, to be sixteen again."

Dora pulled a face. "I'd rather not." She tightened her grip on Remus' arm as her free hand came to rest upon her belly. "I like my life better now, I reckon."

Angelina smiled. "Speaking of which, has Teddy come up with that illusive name for your girl yet?"

Remus and Dora shared a glance that carefully combined amusement, wryness and a touch of guilt.

"Not yet," Dora admitted. "And if I'd have known how frantic it would make him, I'd never had asked him! He's taken to making lists and leaving them around for us to accidentally find so he can get a look at our responses to them. He's really scared of picking something we won't like."

Remus nodded. "He does seem to get a rather hunted look on his face whenever the subject comes up. He did tell us this morning that he'd narrowed it down but I got the impression he was fishing for hints more than anything."

Dora laughed. "If we want to leave hints for Teddy on name choices, the best thing we could do is offer him reading material. Do you know last weekend I caught him going through your parents' collection of Muggle books with a notepad and pen?"

Remus considered the offerings available from his parents' battered choice of literature. "I guess that means our daughter will be called Hermia, Cleopatra or Juliet then. Or possibly Nancy or Tiny Timina."

Angelina laughed out loud. "Don't worry. I saw Victoire yesterday and she told me he really had narrowed it down to a couple he'd found in books. Apparently he's going to mull them over this weekend and try and pin one down by tonight."

Remus met his wife's eyes as their eyebrows raised in unison.

"That sounds promising," Dora admitted. "No wonder he was so keen to take your Hogsmeade duty. He must have wanted mulling time."

"Tis the season for mulling, I suppose." Remus gestured to the mulled Christmas mead stand that was doing a roaring trade just down the way. Dora and Angelina both smiled.

"Well, I'd better get back to my mission of mercy." Angelina smiled again as she gestured to the banners and displays in Madam Malkin's window. "I hope there's more than slogans inside that shop or it's going to be a _quiet _Christmas! See you soon!"

"Bye Angelina." Remus and Dora spoke in unison as George's wife hurried off down the street towards Madam Malkin's. As Tonks followed her gaze, her eyebrows vanished once more under the shadow of her hat.

"Blimey," she exclaimed. "Have you seen what they've got in that window? How many innocent birds died for that monstrosity?"

Remus followed her gaze. He stared.

It didn't look real. It certainly didn't look like anything but magic could be holding such a thing together. The dress in the window was a massive, airy expanse of skirt, topped by an elegant bodice and long flowing sleeves, all made entirely of nothing but long, white swans feathers. A gentle magic breeze set the whole creation gently rustling like the ball-gown of a Fifi LaFolle heroine who had just topped an epic staircase and was waiting for her Prince Charming to unmask himself and sweep her off her feet.

And sweeping over the top of it all was a silver banner gleaming with fairy lights and shining white words.

_Inside every girl is a swan waiting to burst into flight! Dresses and dress robes available for the Hogwarts Yule Ball, the Ministry of Magic Christmas Gala and the Hogsmeade Hogmanay Hootenanny_.

To many, it was probably a magical moment. To Dora however, it was an opportunity to snort loudly and stifle a giggle.

"_Inside every girl is a swan waiting to burst into flight_?" she repeated incredulously. "The only way I have a swan inside me waiting to fly is if our daughter turns out to be a _ballerina_."

Remus quirked his lips. "That would be deeply ironic. Especially given how much you've been blaming her for your balance issues."

"We could save Teddy some naming trouble though." Absently Tonks rubbed one hand over her belly once more, a slight frown creasing her brow even as she smiled. "We'd just call her Isadora."

"Or Margot."

"Or Darcey." Dora shifted her vast waist slightly as her nose wrinkled. "And she'd be up there on stage, all graceful and elegant whilst her mother stumbles around in the aisles, spilling drinks on people and tripping over their handbags and…"

Her voice trailed off. Her hand against her belly froze as the other hand, still wrapped around Remus' arm, tightened noticeably. Her eyes widened.

"Ummm… Remus?" she said softly.

Remus felt something vicious clutch at his throat. "What?"

"You know that bursting into flight we were just taking about?"

"Yes."

"Well, our little swan has just started." Her eyes rose and locked with his, her face deadly serious. "My waters have just broken."

The world slowed. The noise and chatter that had swamped them a moment before seemed to fade into a distant hum. Remus could only stare.

"What?" he managed.

"My waters have broken." Dora pulled a face that was both peculiar and alarmingly familiar. It was the same face she'd been pulling when she announced the imminent arrival of Teddy.

"But it's not time yet!" It was a fairly useless thing to say but Remus was still struggling to re-engage his brain. "She's not due until next week!"

Dora winced. "I don't think anyone's told _her_ that."

"But Teddy was late!"

"And this one's early!" It was almost a snap and it had an element of panic to it. "I really think we'd better go home. I mean, you do remember how quickly Teddy came, right?"

Remus did. Vividly. From first twinge to birth, the whole business had taken under an hour. Hestia Jones, who had dropped in briefly afterwards to check her over, had theorised that Dora being a Metamorphmagus meant her body didn't need the lengthy muscular prep to rearrange itself that other women needed and just got down to business. And Hestia had warned at Tonks' last check up that now the trail had been blazed by Teddy as it were, the odds were it would be even quicker the second time.

Dora was right. This was no time to panic and they had no time to lose.

The Leaky Cauldron would be rammed at this time of day and the queue for the fire had stretched out of the door into the alley itself when they'd arrived. They hadn't time to deal with queue jumping.

A brightly coloured sign illuminated by dancing sparkles of silver and gold caught Remus' eye. Taking a firm hold of his wife, he helped her quickly forwards.

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was as crammed as every other shop in Diagon Alley but Remus quickly spotted a familiar red head guiding his customers through the benefits of Skiving Snack-boxes.

"George!" he bellowed.

George's head shot up. He took one look at Tonks, bent double in Remus' arms and making alarming panting noises and abandoned his customers instantly.

"We need a Floo!" Remus didn't even wait for his former student to reach him. "Which way?"

"The store room!" George exclaimed as he hurried over, scattering customers with his long limbs. "Quick, I'll show you!"

With the aid of a couple of dungbombs, a path, albeit a most unpleasant one, was quickly cleared. George took the box of icicles from Remus as he helped them into his storeroom where a roaring fire was burning and it took the work of seconds to root out a tub of Floo powder.

"Can you get hold of Victoire?" Remus asked as Tonks rather sharply retrieved her box from the last remaining Weasley twin. "And Andromeda? And Teddy too, he's in Hogsmeade." He gestured helplessly at Dora. "It's going to be quick, I'm not sure I'll have time…"

"No problem mate, leave it to me. St Mungo's or home?"

"Home!" Tonks expelled the word violently. "I want to do this at home! I want my girl born at home!"

"Your wish is my command!" With a sturdy nod, George hurled the powder and the fire flared green. "Winter Hollow! Now get going, yeah? I'll call around!"

Remus nodded gratefully. "Thank you, George. Ready Dora?"

With one arm still clamped painfully around his and the other grasping her box of icicles like a lifeline, Dora gritted her teeth and nodded. Resting one hand carefully against the back of her robes for support, Remus supported his wife and then plunged into the flames.

Emerald light flared. Out of the sickly glow, their living room emerged and then they were thrust out into ashless air once more.

Something caught on Remus' foot – he stumbled and heard Dora gasp, her box of icicles thumping heavily to the ground as she slumped sideways onto the settee. Remus himself was not so lucky – tumbling sharply, he slammed onto the rug, gasping with pain as his shoulder took the full force of the impact. His ankle throbbed, still slumped against whatever strange, cold object had tripped him, but what could have been in his way when they were always so careful to keep the fireplace clear?

He glanced down. And blinked.

It was a basket. And in it nestled… a giant egg?

_What in the_…

"_Don't_ move." The gruff voice froze Remus in his tracks. A battered hand reached out and snatched the basket away, before returning to wave a wand over the fallen couple. A narrow, harsh face thrust into view.

Remus felt his heart shudder.

_Bartolph._

The _real _Bartolph. In his _living room_.

And his wife had just gone into labour.

TO BE CONTINUED


	7. Strange New World Part Two

**A/N**: The end of this fic is cheesy. I make no apology for this, though I hope Teddy's choice of name meets with approval. :) I was going to call this fic Brave New World as per a certain Bard but then I remembered I already have a one shot by that name. Darn…;p

_**Strange New World by Jess Pallas**_

_**Part Two**_

He could see Dora's eyes widening in shock and horror as she panted, still clutching her belly, but her gaze was cold and alarmingly, very determined. He saw her hand slipping towards the spilled box of everlasting icicles with distinct intent. The other had already palmed her wand.

A horrible memory, too close to now, slammed into Remus' head; this very room so many years before, a three-year-old him cowering behind a chair as his parents braced in horror, his father angry and afraid, his mother protective and determined as her hand slipped towards the fireplace poker. And illuminated by the light of the fire he had just barged through, Fenrir Greyback had been screaming and spitting at them both…

And given how well that night had ended…

_Merlin, please no, not again_…

"Dora…" he half-started. But he was already too late.

For in spite of the fact she was in dramatically rapid labour, Dora was an Auror to the bone. There was no way she would ever just sit quietly.

Her wand hand lashed out as she half rose to her feet. "Expelli…"

But the sentence cut off sharply as a violent contraction bent her double. Remus scrambled desperately to his feet and dived forwards but it was already too late – Bartolph's hand smacked out, knocking the wand from his wife's palm as he shoved her back against the arm of the settee and dug his wand into her neck.

"I said _don't move_!" he roared.

Remus froze down to the depths of his heart. Dora, her face a mixture of pain and fury, continued to gasp and pant as she clung to their furniture to keep on her feet. Her other hand, still holding the icicle she had grabbed in the heat of the moment, vanished hurriedly under her robes.

"Get _out _of our house!" she almost screamed. "What the bloody hell do you want?"

There was a mad look in Bartolph's eyes as he stared wildly down at the panting Auror. "What you doing back?" he almost spat. "You ain't supposed to be back here, you ain't suppose to get in me way! I was almost done and you two come barging through and trash all me work! I'll have to start over now!"

_Don't provoke him, don't provoke him_… Remus stayed frozen but his mind was whirring, his wife at wand point, his daughter on the way, he had to do something, he had to _think_, and he had to stop his wife from antagonising the chaotic nutter of a werewolf in their living room…

He wasn't getting much luck on that score. "Tragic!" Dora spat back between gasps. "I'm so sorry if my going into labour ruined your murderous plans! What's the egg for, Bartolph? What, are you going to beat someone over the head with it?"

But Remus' eye had drifted back to the egg and its basket, abandoned now on the floor. He drank in the patterns on its curved sides, the colour, the shape of it and the ice around his heart turned arctic.

"That's a _Chimaera_ egg," he whispered.

And it was. There was no mistaking those markings. Laid in summer in high mountains and hatched by the cool of winter snow, the egg of a vicious monster, part lion, part goat and part dragon and lethal from the moment it was born, almost impossible to kill and very, _very_ banned. It could only be found with great difficulty and then only in the remotest corners of…

Greece. Where Bartolph's trail had vanished.

_He didn't run away at all. He was after a fresh source of chaos_.

But a Chimaera… Surely even Bartolph wasn't insane enough to…

Bartolph's wild eyes slashed in his direction. "Pretty, ain't it?" he all but snarled. "Took me months to track this bugger down but it'll be worth it! They ain't going to blubber about werewolves being the big, bad monsters when they've seen a Chimaera snacking on their kiddies!" His eyes flashed back and forth between the couple, his wand still trained on Dora's throat. "I was all ready, all prepared! I'd been watching this frigging house for days waiting for a day when you'd all push off so I could get at the fire! It was me only way in! Security at the old place, just too tight, ain't it? But I tried to connect a Floo and nowt doing but me, I could tell one were there already, hooked up somewhere off the grounds. And though I couldn't get in it, I traced the blighter all the way back here! And it was warded but I knew I could break them, knew if I had enough time on my own, like, I could do it! And just when you finally piss off and I was all but done…"

Remus could feel his heartbeat pounding a frantic rhythm in his ears. Days and days of feeling on edge, on feeling like he was being watched – was this why? Had some deep, instinctive part of him been aware somehow that another werewolf had been out there, watching him?

And Bartolph's plans… A place this fire led that no other did, that no other _could_…

_Snacking on their kiddies_…

"Hogwarts." Dora's horrified whisper beat Remus by seconds. "You want to plant that thing at _Hogwarts_."

Bartolph gave an icy, manic grin. "Genius, ain't it? In and out, no one would have known. Bury it in the snow in the grounds outside the window and by the time that precious Yule Ball comes round, up it'd pop like a big, hungry daisy and watch them kiddies run!" He laughed for a moment, a vicious, unpleasant peel. "But you're here." The laughter died sharply as though cut away by a knife. "And I could kill you, I s'pose, but that'd be messy and then folks'd wonder why. I don't want no one going on any egg hunts early…" He shrugged with a cold grin. "Well, no matter, eh? A couple of memory charms should sort you out." He grinned at Remus. "And me little mate will probably get you both at the party anyway. You two buggers _always_ seem to be getting in me way."

But Remus wasn't listening. He didn't care. His eyes were on his gasping, panting wife, the wife who was having their baby _right now_ while this self righteous lunatic planned to murder innocent children and for what? Some twisted vengeance on a world he felt had done him wrong? A sick game to get his own back by killing children who hadn't even been born when he'd been locked away?

"What is the _matter_ with you?" he whispered.

Bartolph blinked at him. "You what?"

"What is the matter with you?" The rage inside Remus was rising like lava in a volcano, melting away this ice and replacing it with fire. "The world's done you wrong, so what? You murder innocent people for it? Innocent _children_?"

"_Innocent_?" Bartolph snapped back. "There ain't no innocent! They all did it, all treated me like dirt, all left me to rot like a dog in Azkaban…"

Remus clenched his fists. "Those children at Hogwarts weren't even _born _when you were sent to Azkaban!"

"Their _parents_ were!" Bartolph roared back. "He left me to rot! Kingsley Shacklebolt, he left me in prison and his precious son is going to be there! All those wasted years were down to him!"

"No, they were down to _Greyback_! Blame him if you have to blame someone!"

"At least he took care of his own!" Bartolph snapped back. "You wouldn't know, would you, you wouldn't understand, the cosy werewolf teacher with his nice job and his pretty wife! I bet you ain't never slept rough in your life! I bet you ain't never been spat on in the street or scrabbled in dustbins for food or…"

"_I was there_!" Remus' furious shout shocked Bartolph into unexpected silence. "I was there, in Greyback's camp! I slept in the mud six feet away from you, you _stupid blind idiot!_ I helped you scrabble in dustbins! I even showed you where to sleep when you first arrived, scared out of your wits and hiding whenever Greyback walked by! What, were you so caught up in your own misery you never noticed those of us there with you? Did you think you were the only one? I've been spat on in the street more times than I can count and trust me, I know better than anyone else just how vindictive and stupid people can be! So don't you _dare_ tell me I don't understand!"

Bartolph's wand hand, though still pointed at Dora's throat, was suddenly wavering slightly as he stared at Remus with bewilderment in his eyes. Remus could tell he was scrambling to regain the heights of the high ground of bitter self-righteous that his fellow werewolf's revelations had just shoved him off. He'd clearly never considered that his miserable, all consuming plight might have been shared by anyone else.

"You sold out though, didn't you?" he stammered harshly. "Went crawling back like a good boy and they let you off! You can't understand what it's like to have decades of your life snatched away over one stupid mistake, how it makes you feel…"

And Remus laughed.

Bartolph's rant stopped dead. Even Dora, still breathing hard as she clutched her belly with one hand and her hidden icicle with the other, gaped at her husband. But Remus couldn't help himself.

"You think I don't know?" he said softly. "You think I don't know what it means to walk out one day and find the world has moved on without me? Well, try this. You do something foolish on impulse and end up having to pay for it. Suddenly, you've been away for twenty years and then you're thrust back into this _strange new world_, where everyone's moved on without you and you're running to keep up. The faces are older, the spells are new and you're so behind, so out of date, you don't know where to _start_. People look at you like you shouldn't be there. They look at you like you should be _dead_. And you should be because it's not your world anymore, not the world you understood, even if you didn't like it; you think, maybe it would be better to hide away, keep your face hidden and resent the rest of the world the freedoms that you are denied because you're scared of what they'll say if they realise who you are and what you are. And maybe if you've hidden for so long, you'll even come to want to make them pay for living happily in a world you can no longer understand. You'll want to remind them of the wrongs they seem to have forgotten, that they've had time to let pass. Close, am I?" Bartolph's silence was answer enough. "I faced that choice. But I didn't take your path. I didn't hide away. I stood up and I said to the world _here I am_. Take me or leave me." He shook his head "And believe me, some of them _really_ wanted to leave me, but I was there and they couldn't escape me and in the end, they let me be. They helped me and welcomed me. And I got used to the faces and caught up on the spells and settled into the world in a way I'd never managed before. Because I found that while so many things had changed, they had changed _for the better_. I stuck it out and they let me in." He stared at Bartolph, almost pityingly, almost feeling sorry for this man who had been unable to move on from the wrongs of the world he'd left behind and unable to forgive those who had. "And maybe they'd have let you in too if you'd stopped resenting them for things long gone and given them the chance to be different. Chimaeras and Lethifolds and Acromantulas aren't monsters, not really; they're just beasts who know no better. And werewolves too – we know we aren't monsters unless we let ourselves be. Greyback let himself be a monster the day his human side chose to be so. And you, Jack Bartolph, who call yourself the Monster Master; that's not right. You made the only monster you've unleashed upon the world. Because the only monster I've seen in this whole sorry business is _you_."

Remus felt his words die away as the rage that had burned him flickered to ashes. Jack Bartolph was staring at him, wide eyed and incredulous, his wand had shaking, his mouth working soundlessly as he struggled to find words to re-establish the fragile shell of resentment that Remus could tell he had just shattered. But there were none.

And Remus knew this was only going to go one of two ways.

"Now put down the wand," he said softly. "And we'll see what can be done to help you."

Bartolph's eyes snapped up. And Remus knew he'd chosen route number two.

_No, Merlin, no!_

Remus was already moving as Bartolph's wand hand swung sharply to point at him.

"_Avada_…"

And then the fireplace erupted with emerald fire and a spinning figure clutching a heavy book was flung tumbling into the room.

"I've _got it_!" Teddy exclaimed almost before his feet had hit the carpet. "I know what to call…"

His voice dried instantly as Bartolph's head whipped round. But the instant of distraction was enough.

With a scream that could have shattered glass, Dora flung the icicle.

"_Argh_!" As the sharp point dug deep into his face, Bartolph dropped his wand and staggered, bleeding, backwards. Remus was already charging and Teddy was carrying the momentum of his journey – both Lupin men pounced as one, flinging the mad werewolf to the ground in a flurry of limbs. Bartolph shrieked and struggled powerfully, landing a bruising kick on Remus' ribs and a harsh punch on Teddy's shoulder; scrambling desperately for something to strike with, Remus' hand fixed upon a stony, round shape.

_Perfect_.

The Chimeara egg, with its hard, rock like shell, descended on Bartolph's head with a steely crunch. A second blow, this time from the book in Teddy's hand felled him into unconsciousness.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Remus breathed deeply, staring down at the unconscious form of Jack Bartolph, at his startled and bewildered son and then to where his wife continued to pant and grimace and…

"Teddy?" Dora's voice had a distinctly strained quality about it.

Teddy pulled himself to his feet as he stared at his mother with a combination of fascination and horror.

"Yes Mum?" he managed.

"If you could call Harry, love?" Dora managed between pants as he cast a pointed glance downwards. "I think your father and I are about to have our hands full…"

* * *

At some point, it seemed, night had fallen, curtains had been drawn and lamps had been lit. Remus hadn't really noticed. Indeed, he hadn't noticed anything much since his wife had eased the new little person they had created together into his arms and asked if he minded holding her while she catnapped.

_His daughter_.

She was a squishy little thing, red and shocked looking, but given the nature of her arrival into the world and the excitement she had shared by proxy in the womb, this was hardly a great surprise. Big blue eyes stared out of delicate, if rather squashed little features as she took in the world that had given her such a ride and the two people who had brought her into it.

"Cuddled to death." Dora muttered quietly, startling Remus out of his reverie as he stared down at the precious little bundle in his arms. "I knew it would happen."

Remus glanced over his shoulder from his perch on the edge of the bed to where Dora was lying, pale, exhausted, but smiling.

"I thought you were still sleeping," he said softly.

Dora shook her head. "I napped. I've got too much adrenalin to sleep." She shook her head. "And this was supposed to be the nice, _normal _baby."

Remus smiled. "Say what you will about our family life. It's never been _boring_."

Dora chuckled. "True enough." A wrinkle creased her forehead. "Did I hear Harry while I was dozing?"

Remus nodded as he tickled his little daughter gently under the chin. Blue eyes watched his finger solemnly, if rather unfocusedly. "He stuck his head round the door when Victoire told him it was safe. He wanted us to know Bartolph is safely in custody and the egg has been handed over to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. He'll drop by and get statements from us in a day or two."

Dora sighed wearily. "Good. I assume they'll be a trial?"

Remus joined her sigh with his own. "Eventually. In a way, I almost feel sorry for him. He was in a very similar boat to me in a lot of ways. He just had no one to help him adjust."

"He didn't let them help him." Dora's tone implied a little less sympathy. "He killed four people and wanted to kill more. He brought this on himself."

"True enough." Gently, Remus placed a soft kiss on the tiny, wrinkled brow of his daughter as he rested her against his shoulder. "But let's not talk about him. I want to enjoy this moment."

Dora's smile broadened. "I think you may have to defer your enjoyment. Because judging by the way our little girl's mouth is sucking at your robes, I'd say she's after something you can't give her."

Remus glanced down to find the little rosebud mouth was indeed questing its way along his shoulder with a grim determination. A small frown appeared between the bold blue eyes as dinner failed to be forthcoming.

Fondly, gently, he stroked the soft crown of hair. "I don't think you're onto a winner there, sweetheart," he whispered softly. "Wrong parent. But you'll get the hang of it."

Dora pulled herself to a sit against the mountain of pillows at the end of their bed. "Come on then, hand her over," she said with a grin. "Before munching on your bony shoulder for no reward turns to tears."

Just as Remus was lowering their daughter gently into Dora's arms, there was a quiet knock at the door.

"Mum? Dad?"

Their firstborn peaked a tentative head around the door. As Remus glanced over, he caught a brief, poignant glimpse of the sad, wistful expression that his son hurriedly damped down behind his warm smile.

"Victoire's headed back to work now," he said softly as he crept carefully inside. Remus noticed he was still clutching the same battered book he'd emerged from the Floo with – on closer inspection, he recognised it as his mother's old leather-bound family Shakespeare. "And Gran's tidying up downstairs. Thanks for letting me help out." He smiled more warmly down at his new little sister. "It was an honour."

Remus didn't even have to glance round to know his wife's eyes were brimming. "It was an honour to have you here, son," he replied gently, his own heart glowing. He'd slept in the mud and been spat on in the street but here he was, with a wife and son he loved and a brand new little daughter to brighten his gleaming world even further. "And speaking of which…" He smiled quietly. "I know your dramatic entrance was lost in the excitement that followed but I gather you have a name for us?"

Teddy took a deep breath as he settled at the end of the bed. "I do," he said firmly. "Or, I hope I do." He smiled more wryly. "Please say if you don't like it, won't you?"

Dora's raised eyebrow made him laugh, albeit nervously, as he reached down and thumbed through the old, leather book. "Anyway…" he said. "I wanted my sister to have a name that meant something to use, not just some random thing pulled out of mid air. And when you told me, Dad, that this Muggle book had been in your mother's family for generations…" He flicked briefly to the title page where name after name in the Griffiths family were recorded for posterity ending with _Diana Griffiths_, her husband _Reynard Lupin_ and their son _Remus_. "Well, it seemed fitting that I find a name from here. And when I was sat thumbing through it in the Three Broomsticks earlier, I happened across this." He cleared his throat and then carefully, began to read.

"_O, wonder!_  
_How many goodly creatures are there here!_  
_How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world,_  
_That has such people in't!_"

Remus could feel the smile on his face growing as he realised where his son was going, what the name would be and how beautifully appropriate it was in the face of all that had happened, the triumph of hope over bitterness and forgiveness over revenge.

Teddy smiled with him, hopefully. "And when I read that, it seemed right. So I thought maybe we could name her after the woman that said. I think we should call her… Miranda?"

"Miranda," Dora repeated softly, staring down at the little face staring hopefully up at her. True, the hope was more for food than for a great future but such worries were not hers for now. "Miranda." She tasted it again. "Miranda Diana Lupin. It's different enough not to be too normal but normal enough not to be too different!" She beamed. "Oh Teddy, it's _perfect_!"

Remus had never seen such relief upon a face. "Really?" Teddy exclaimed. "You're not just saying that?"

"Of course I'm not!" Dora was grinning from ear to ear. "I knew I could rely on my little boy to name my little girl!"

"It's wonderful, Teddy," Remus reiterated before the question could be asked. "_Well done_. And though your mother has her hands full, I'd say you deserve a hug."

Teddy submitted gracefully to a suitably manly embrace from his father but it all dissolved into hopeless sentimentality when Dora rested her head on both their shoulders with a little face– _Miranda_'s little face - peering up with hers.

And as Remus perched on the edge of the bed, embracing his son and feeling his wife and daughter gaze up from his shoulder, he knew there was no man in this strange new world that could ever be as happy as he was.

**THE END**


End file.
